Wile E. Coyote & The Living Christ

   
   "Wile E. Coyote & The Living Christ"   
    
   After the Living Christ, possibly, enraged the proud, inaccurate theologians of His time, they violently attempted to throw Him off a hill or cliff, and in my bizarre opinion, I can see the Virgin Mother's sincere concern for Her Son's Life--a saving physicality filled with Holy Blood.  
   Specifically, as Wile E. Coyote continued to perpetually resurrect himself after getting driven off many a cliff while pursuing his quasi-Eucharist, the antagonizing tongue-sticking Road Runner--a cartoon-like, demonic bird hellbent on bullying the coyote's need for a living sustenance, yet Wile E. Coyote never truly perishes.  A perpetual, intrinsic divination to live on more than bread alone--as Christ mentioned.
   And while cruelly considered vile vermin, though not injuring or killing nearly as many people as have domesticated dogs, this thriving beast continues upon a path of eternal resurrection.
   
   * * * * * * * *

The coyote or Barking Dog sings at the cheese-glimmering Moon,
Having fangs of life to receive the holy boon,
And every Good Shepherd needs a sheep dog,
Unlike the impurity of the mud-rolling hog;
Plus, while death for wisdom is birthed by the American Indian coyote,
So is regeneration of life, like Italian artists getting fueled by ravioli--
Nothing braves more envious contempt than an unerring survivor,
Like Christ denying the riches and fame of a reptilian miser.   

Mental, Physical, and Demonic Illness

   
   "Mental, Physical, And Demonic Illness"
   
   A recent article offered in the Journal of the American Medical Association forged by Duke University showcases how preterm birth spawns long term health and quality-of-life issues; moreover, 5% of the Universe is only scoped unlike the theoretical Multiverse and all of its theological implications.  Too, physician and nurse error is one of the leading causes of death in the States--just saying.
   By way of cesarean section; next, placed into incubation, which of course causes coyotes unearthly skittishness--this ominously offered me chronic pain and amazing anguish during childhood, including bloody urine, impacted bowels, which of course caused urethra probing and spoons inserted into the rectal cavity--what fun.  Also, having a sense of quasi-telepathy concerning using filthy bathrooms--toilet seats covered in lost pubic hairs and yellow stains--I could feel the leftovers of the unclean fools and their lack of appreciation for inviolate purity; plus, my biological father leaving me for a money-thieving moll after my first ten months of infantile existence; next, my mother ushered by a pestering salesman anchored me deep into the Confederate South, away from my entire biological family.   
   I continued on with phobic insanity, needing a speech-language pathologist to use my words, and I needed numerous physicians to assist me until a hellish adolescence.  The quasi-telepathy grew monstrously more intense, an inner knowledge of people's dirty resonation in the restrooms, leaving me with the inability to urinate or defecate in bathrooms, causing me to exile myself from school after the 9th grade.  People, including many family members concluded me simply lazy.  Lazy, lazy, lazy was their approach due to lack of knowledge.
   Sleep paralysis was the worst.  Then, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with Tics, Social Phobia, and Inflammatory Bowel Disease where I lost over half the blood in my body, getting infused by blood and other medications regularly--all while the dumb-ass doctors never offered pain medication or anti-anxiety drugs.  I endured and was sincerely brave due to the Trinity Itself.  Thanks to an altruistic, Ivy League physician, the last nine years--I have barely managed, but managed.
   Whether Mary Magdalene had numerous devils or was merely a whore--I believe in the diabolical possession aspects, having encountered supernatural creatures during sleep paralysis and while completely conscious.  And of course more inflammation like psoriasis, which has made my right ear deaf twice.  
   An approximate 40,000 suicides a year, outshining recent war casualties and school shootings, but people still label the sick lazy or cruel--all of us.  Yet life is over in the blink of an eye, and the Divine Justice System will stupefy the unbelievers--in many a mystic and ascetic's mind.  For people love themselves.  Hubris their Satanic synergy, along with PRIDE--rebellion against God.    

Fallacious Nature Of American Society

   
   "Fallacious Nature Of American Society"
    
   The Living Christ is Him, according to Saint Peter's Rock Solid, but for the heretics--they have baby Jesus, or the pneumatic Jesus that you can fold up like a dollar bill and put in your pocket like most Protestants do, denying the inviolate nature of the Virgin Mother, thinking a barely adolescent girl would creamily lay with a much older man already having spawned many a child--how freaking creepy is that!?!
   Regardless, Our America--the most fictitious Christian Nation, forsaking the Beloved Beatitudes such as:  "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."  For hubris-shimmering pride and non-limited confidence is waaaaay up on how things should be here.  And blessed are the merciful and meek--are we actually anything like that?  And whether the Arch-Angel Gabriel gave the illiterate Muhammad the Koran or Islam was birthed by Catholics to compete with the true pillar of Judaism; regardless, the Holy Text  is sincerely spot on concerning knowledge of both the Old and New Testaments, putting an angelic spin on absolute submission to the Father, never adding the Gods to God Himself.  Yet Jesus is considered the Apostle having totally gelled with the Holy Spirit Itself, and the Blessed Virgin Mary, highly mentioned in the Koran is considered one of God's most unblighted souls.
   The falsehood of our society is the corporate system--some would argue, maybe me.  Bush League Colleges and Universities bursting forth on every corner, charging millions so people can get normal jobs where suicide is not highly considered--unless the market crashes.  It gets kids systematically plugged into a corrupt system that has no reverence for autodidacts like Christ Himself, much similar to the Pantheistic Spinoza--them both blackballed Rabbinical Scholars.  
   We pay for everything.  Crappy physicians, money hungry attorneys--you freaking name it.  And undergraduate students actually consider themselves smart--they are randomly educated, but not sincerely smart, unless of course they take the intellectually hungry route of Gore Vidal--he never needed the classroom, though he was insanely brilliant; also, very vile at times.
   The hogwash of the classroom with opinionated professors wasn't for Hemingway, Lovecraft, or Philip K. Dick--the mystic madman himself.  But get into school kids; next, take your XANAX, drink your cold beer, watch reality television, play fantasy football, die obese, and deny the foundation of religion--that which birthed spirituality!!!  It is what we Americans do best.  And of course--treat sick people like shit.  

Coyote--the inventor of death

   
   "Coyote--the inventor of death"
   
   The Wolf Animal Totem is pretty basic and sublime:  Loyalty, friendship, and sometimes suspicious.  The Coyote's Totem represents much more.  And some American Indian Tribes consider him the inventor of death.
   I will not simply follow the oral traditions of such a creature sometimes viewed as vermin.  I will transcend, go beyond, outshine and all the rest--not that my views are actually more superior.
   The reason to me that the elusive and bizarre coyote invented death is simple--for us to learn wisdom.  Wisdom:  Knowing what is right; next, doing what is right.  As we age, of course we grow towards death.  But why?  And why do we have to age?  The young are foolish more than merely innocent--in my opinion.  They overly enjoy mercurial sexuality and monstrous mischief.  To stay young forever would totally bring chaos to an eternal state of stupid existence.  But in aging, we learn.  We learn that we can't have multiple sexual partners forever.  That we can't goof off and toilet paper the suburbs while tossing eggs at the mini-mansions in the suburban sprawl--or we will all be in trouble.  Neither can we use drugs over and over again without any medical merit.  Therefore, in aging and in approaching death we learn to be calm, controlled, and deny the aspects of carnal cravings.  Most of us do anyway.  I'm still a fool plenty of the time.
   So, death is the giver of wisdom.  A chance to change our mischievous ways and be the divine elders who instruct the youth on their idiocies.  
   While delivering newspapers in Nashville, I came across many scattering coyotes during the moonlit nights here and there--sleek, good-looking, and ornamented with bushy tails that keep and contain the negativity of disease and demons.  But upon seeing a gore-smeared, dead coyote on the suburban road, I had a magnanimous desire to get out of my car and inspect the lovely Barking Dog--Canis Latrans.  I looked deep into its death-filled eyes, sensing the mysterious remains of life still fully existing.  We should all adore the coyote, whether he is a trickster or not.  

CMA Awards--tenuous and weak without Union Blue

   
   "CMA Awards--tenuous and weak without Union Blue"
   
   The trickster coyote, though their Totem represents many more things, proves to be the most enduring survivor in America even though slaughtered in myriads each year.  I surmise they enjoy the carnal aspects of elegant breeding--much like the folks of the CMA Awards, and my bizarre self included, if I could only transcend women who think that their vaginal cavities are self-cleaning ovens and don't randomly douche with the unscented variety.
   Country ladies should royally represent the bucolic nature of the American South, ornamented in cowboy boots, cut-off jeans, and tank tops that refer to gas stations--like EXXON--put a tiger in your tank girls.
   Regardless, country music dames are damning the impoverished audience of millions, dressing in ostentatious dresses as if they're Bond Girls--and they are axiomatically not!  Plus, the non-mystical majority of lyrics is about boozing and whoring, but teenagers love this.  
   Lady Antebellum kinda/sorta sings:

What I really need now is a double shot of Crown;
Next, my panties are coming down.
  
   What kinda ode would Union Blue respond with?  What about:
   
Girl, give me a golden shower;
Then, I'll pick you a Yankee flower.
   
   Rock 'N' Roll has changed the world.  Especially politics in the turbulent 60's.  Even swaying opulent born politicians to end the draft; moreover, they could actually bard with gleaming grammar and set the ENTIRE country on Freedom's Fire.  

Bernie Sanders' Weekend

   
   "Bernie Sanders' Weekend"

   Some say folk-playing Bernie will bring a return to Zionism, whatever; nevertheless, a loving and reverent knowledge of the Ultimate God and the most read poet, King David, his bad ass self both sincerely share a mystical synergy of wisely knowing:  "Herb for the service of man."  The King James Bible proclaims it!!!  
   People who don't mercifully support herb-derived medicine are usually healthy souls, thriving in their oversexed youth.  But they will unearth the mad misery of sickness after their middle ages, a terrible time of existence as did the romantic bard being mad, bad, and dangerous to know did know--Lord Byron himself.
   Yet for those in their 20's or 30's sickly suffering with disease and illness--herb-derived medicine offers a sanctuary of solace and reduces the inflammation of agony.  
   Bush League medical students of the American South aren't aware, but inquire upon those from Stanford, Berkeley, or UCLA--sublimity always happens in the American West first.  As Jim Morrison, whose favorite personal poison was alcohol did sing:  "The West is the best--get out here and we'll do the rest!"
   To deny herb-derived medicine to the ill-fated is sincerely demonic, driven by the lies of Satan himself.  As for the children--let their parents govern them, not a police state America.  Verily, it doesn't take the "Village People" to raise our children.
   A Weekend At Bernie's would offer the truth of honest Abe Lincoln's Yankee words:  "Prohibition goes against everything this country stands for--it makes criminals out of people who are not criminals."  Nuff Said.   

Chris Christie and his elephantine addictions

   
   "Chris Christie and his elephantine addictions"
  
    Nobody running for the Republican theocratic-like control of America is more of an addictive lard ass than Chris Christie.  Verily, gluttony is a wicked sin, and only Mexico outshines with cottage cheese in their buttocks--them the only country more obese and gross while we whither the starving Abrahamic regions away with shock and awe--a hubris-filled son finishing his Daddy's war by slaughtering millions of innocents that had nothing to do with 9/11.  And just like marijuana being illegal birthed shit like meth, W. spawned ISIL.  Killing Muslims for America is like shooting fish in the barrel, but if we have to face Russia or China, megadeaths will belong to the proud American soldier.  An approximate 58,000 of poor kids unable to avoid the draft by getting into college wasted for no magnanimous reason were murdered in Vietnam.  What might the twisted Ezra Pound bard:

There died a myriad,
And of the best among them,
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization.  
   
   But back to Chris Christie's stinky body odor, most likely--he's a freaking addict.  A Mafia-like madman prosecuting liberty and freedom due to the innate nature of a bully.  Cupcakes fear him with great phobia, and his arteries are more clogged than Hillary's wicked cauldron full of damnation. 
   Like the late Nixon, she suffers from a tremendous fear of whether she's liked by the public masses or not--you can see it in her psychotically gleaming eyes.  And as for Ben Carson needing to hear a pragmatic reason against abortion--the answer is Hitler.  People mix, and once you roll the genetic dice randomly--you never know what you're going to get.  "I hated you even in the womb" has been mentioned in Holy Text as well.  
   Regardless of all these failures of weak and self-loving candidates, Christie's addiction to fatty food proves an axiomatic sense of clinical depression--there is no greater addict running than him.  And we all die!  We all fucking die.  Before Percy Shelley was haunted by his doppelganger he gave a similar ode:

How wonderful is death and his brother sleep,
One pale as yonder waning Moon,
The other soft with lips of lurid blue--
One rosy as the morn
When throned on ocean's wave
It blushes over the world.