Don't Lecture The Abrahamic God

   
   "Don't Lecture The Abrahamic God"
   
   Of all the gods, none is greater than He.  Not an eye for an eye, or a tooth for a tooth might Gandhi probe; furthermore, saying that he liked Christ, but not Christians, for they are unlike Christ.  Who is Gandhi to lecture the Word of the Most Almighty.?  It's all bread an circuses as Cicero profoundly exclaimed.  And Christ argued with the devil, telling the prince of this world:  "Man lives not on bread alone, but on every word breathed from the mouth of God."
   Jesus is a pacifist?  Nope.  He is the counterpoise of Mother and Father.  The Son of Man, and the Son of God.  And man is God's champion, for we, not the angels, are in God's image.  
   Christ said He will separate the wheat from the chaff with the winnowing fork, and throw the chaff into the eternal fire; also, He said that He will put the goats to His left, and the lambs to His right, and that the goats shall go to slaughter.  Are these the words of the soft and fuzzy Jesus?  
   Don't live by the sword, or you will die by the sword; on the contrary, a man is a fool to not arm himself against wickedness, and be reminded of history.  Time is relative.  Even Lenin instructed to separate people from their history to make them weak.  
   King David had the first Sacred Heart.  And who was Christ but the Son of David.  The Son of David lives forever.  Saint Joseph, a man of silence, knew this well.
   And yet King David wrote for King Saul after he fell on his own sword to not be slain by his adversaries.  And remember:  King Saul tried to kill young David.  But David was a man after God's own Heart.  Thus, the rejected stone becomes the cornerstone, as the King told us of Joseph being sold into slavery.  Remember, Christ gets all of His best material from the Old Testament, but fulfilled the Prophets with mercy., knowing that even the traitorous Saint Peter was filled with a sparkle of hope, but not all repent.  Too many are too proud--pride:  rebellion against God.  

Indigo Samson (15)

   
   "Indigo Samson (15)"
   
   Bobby Rook and his buzz cut still lived with Liberty, in a romantically Platonic fashion, always invoking Saint Raphael for the jolly green glow of being a metaphorical package of frozen Brussels Sprouts, but Liberty thought they tasted like little medicine balls and looked like brains, and in fact--she was right.  Anyhow, Bobby Rook got the call from Miriam, hearing Buck howling in the background, Miriam instructing him to take Liberty and meet her in Lost Cabin, Wyoming.
   Miriam further explained about Samson and the cult of Maxie, saying it was more than chronic cyanosis, but had a metaphysical tint as well.  She told him that like Saint Joan of Arc, we all should make our countries great again and not just flee to America and destroy it, yet fight to make your own country great; specifically, protect your homeland, given unto you by the Creator Craftsman.
   Bobby Rook would not dismiss Miriam's request.  Miriam knew this.  Now, she just had to get Samson to see his potential.  She kinda/sorta hated to take him away from playing football, for when a guy loses his chance to play in high school, it's nothing but regret.; however, there's always redemption on other battlefields for the innate gladiator.  

The Passion of the Christ the best scene

Indigo Samson (14)

   
   "Indigo Samson (14)"

   Miriam and Buck the wolf''s rumble of owning their sins, and their sins only, everything else a gift from the delicious divine, having been gifted the uncanny Boss 429 from 1970, dropped Samson off at his suburban habitat.  He was shaken, not stirred; on the contrary, like a 50 cent milkshake shook to completion, he gelled well with what he had learned, and Miriam gave him a CB; plus, the station she used, having said as he departed into his parents' luxurious and ostentatious mini-mansion:  "I need to put together a team.  There's you and Maxie; also, Bobby Rook and Liberty--them up Northwards."
   Samson listened to her every word again, the words she had told him on the drive back from the strip mall, where 10 dollar do make you holler; indeed, his father was not pleased, but pleased in a sense, though not completely that his son had long locks.  Yet God protects and shields all the fatherless--how?  With the mother.  Her not to be adored with carnal fixation or masturbation to her bras, but seen as a grandma type, lacking teeth, and giving good slobber, before she pulls a pack of smokes out of her roaring 20's stockings.  Pantyhose were big during the Reagan era too.  When Clinton got elected, the pantyhose and culture of the pantyhose were stripped off, revealing naked legs and toe-showing heels.  
   Samson knew he loved his father, but wouldn't cut his masculine mane, though a plethora of plenty called him fag for it.  But as a "party type of guy" in his vociferous defense, maybe he should take a razor till just over the ears, but remembered the verse:  "And no razor shall come to his head."  
   Samson thanked his hair.  Actually thanked part of his body.  Gave it praise, as the Holy Spirit ran through every cell and fiber, no matter how microscopic.  Less is more; moreover, vibration and frequency are everything.  The big fall harder, having a problem with gravity, as if a sublime joke for the proud giant crashing as he's hit in the weak knees.
   Samson would take a few inches off, knowing:  "My strength will still be displayed if only half abnormal."  Yup, what the hell.  Next, he ate some ice cream.  It contained peanut butter.  

Indigo Samson (13)

  
   "Indigo Samson (13)"
   
   Miriam pulled the massive cubic inches of the fuchsia-hued Boss 429 in front of a strip mall haunting suburbia, it illuminated by Edison's phony bulbs based on patents, nothing else.  She exited the hot rod, wishing for Big Block Highway, while Buck stayed in the car, his tail not down or up, but counterpoised like a path-finding wolf; next, Samson exited, lit a smoke, joining Miriam in the satellite-observed scheme of watchers and weirdos, hiding nothing under the starry night.

MIRIAM
They've hidden things.  Have an agenda.  Can a rich man not be evil?  Christ unmasked and exposed, though threatened, yet their guilt is eclipsed by the root of all evil; however, it cannot escape the truth of the Divine Justice System.  

SAMSON
Who the hell are you girl?  I just play high school football, and I'm only a special teams player.

MIRIAM
Make yourself available to God, like the Queen of ALL virgins did.  Yes, a heart pierced by a sword; nevertheless, she persevered to the end, sharing in Saint John's charity, him listening; indeed, he did behold thy mother, as commanded, rejecting Freud's portrait that heaped dung all over the true law.

SAMSON
You speak in riddles--I'm not picking up what you're putting down.

MIRIAM
You will, and learn the code of speech.  They distract with money, pharmaceutical drugs, and smoking is a killer, though physicians and nurses kill more people each year, and we have what they would say is the psychology of Jesus Christ, an allegory depicting a thievish Messiah who steals guilt, not the Son of David who lives forever.

SAMSON
I'm down with Christ; still, I hear God talking in JUDGES and PSALMS too; moreover, Christ got His best material from King David, Solomon, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and all the rest--hell, they thought He was Jeremiah.  Thus, does that not speak to metempsychosis? 

MIRIAM
So, you're not just a stupid hippie after all.  An all out orgy of black masks, Darwin's delinquency, and an American history crushed by hedonistic haters.  I told the nasty nurse, and all nurses are obese, go figure, that the Bible is not faith, not faith, but Jewish history, and she threw me out of her potato-smelling office.  So what if some people record God's handy work, like the Catholics through the process of Beatification and Canonization.  The Trinity, the Virgin, the angels and saints; plus, the prophets and kings are not to be rejected, for this is a family.  Christ knowing:  My family are those who do the will of Almighty God.  And Virgo will have her feet on the moon; still, never can tell.  Keep your eyes on Christ, or you'll fall through the water, boy.

SAMSON
You're probably younger than me, but--yes ma'am.  Now, can we get some tuna salad or something?  

Indigo Samson (12)

   
   "Indigo Samson (12)"
   
   In the backseat of the monstrous muscle; specifically, the behemoth 429, Samson Landon sat, hands aglow in an indigo-like ooze of quasi-fire, the big dog, or wolf, looking back at him, and the short-haired Miriam piloting the muscle machine.  They drove through the night in suburbia, past all the white-picket fences and yards matching symmetrically with nice mown grass; next, Miriam turned on light classical, and fed Samson some insight.

MIRIAM
Yeah guy, you're like a rare blood kinda fella.  Only a few percent of the entire human race has your blood.  You probably don't have all your wisdom teeth, something funky with your back, and maybe and extra nipple or two--basically, you're a kook, but you got class, though some of it is low.  Cut that hair hippie?

SAMSON
Grimaced.  No way cool girl in the Stang.

MIRIAM
Teasing.  Now, I'm a rare type as well.  But Buck here, the wolf, is positive, yet he has great faith in justice and the spirit of justice; thus, he needs no Moon mother, in a sense, but the Holy Spirit, that least talked to aspect of God, which is why the world is so distracted and weak, allowing socioeconomic control.  Relax, like a father, God chides not always, but blesses those who sincerely fear Him; moreover, they will learn to HATE pride, arrogance, and false testimony, which is sorta wisdom, a thing in action.  I get this stuff from King David and the Son of David, the other King.  Do you like pretzels dipped in cheese?  Buck loves a good hamburger and the pickle farmer.

SAMSON
Can you take me home now?

MIRIAM
Afraid of a teenage girl and a German Shepherd on spiritual steroids?

SAMSON
A little . . .

BOSS 429 burnout