Children of the Luminous Light (3)

   
   "Children of the Luminous Light (3)"
   
   The Moon hung by a heavenly God did wane, and bad things were ending as this Lunar cycle can offer gifts to the faithful; moreover, as that big ball of neon cheese went crescentways, Ann and Chad had hung out a few times, drinking coffee, and innocently getting to know one another.  She dug his spirit, a fire inside, burning beneath his soft-gray eyes, but she wondered where his power came from, him being even shorter than her, but standing head and shoulders above the rest, internally armed with a monster of nobility igniting his insides.
   As they laughed and sweetly giggled over simply glimpsing each other at the coffee shop, she decided to get personal; plus, preach, asking:  "Are you religious?"
   He didn't mind the question, calmly stating:  "My parents were not--me either, I guess.  But I know that something Divine is out there.  I can feel it in my bones."
   Ann went on:  "They talk at work about you being a scrapper.  Anyway, I'm Catholic, and Catholicism started when Christ asked Simon Peter who He was, and Simon Peter responded--You are the Messiah--the Living Christ.  So, that's when the Universal Church began.  Catholic kinda/sorta means Universal.  Anyway, there are some Saints who were scrappers too--you'd like them.  Such as Saint Louis, King of France.  He fought in the hardcore Crusades; plus, wore a cilice, which is used by ascetics to cause corporeal pain--in Catholicism, this is what we might call MORTIFICATION OF THE SENSES.  Like Saint Francis jumping naked in the thorn bushes when he became aroused over some hot women walking down the street."
   "I can grasp that."  Chad stated coolly.  "My football coach always said--punish yourself before I do, if you make a mistake on the football field."
   Next, the twosome sweetly smiled at one another, and a blossoming synergy was growing more sophisticated, and would soon wax with smooth sublimity.    

Children of the Luminous Light (2)

   
   "Children of the Luminous Light (2)"
  
   They called him BAD CHAD, but he wasn't bad--not morally bankrupt anyway; specifically, he was just one tough kid.  Only weighed around 140 pounds, but had the look of a wolverine in his eyes; also, he could tear up a bar, and would do it too, if you glanced at a lady with carnal cravings or offered her an insidious temptation towards sexuality, unless of course she was loose.  Bad Chad could spot a loose woman a mile away.  Could smell the stinky sex, like a skunk stuck in toxicity.
   Anyway, Chad worked at Ann's grocery store--he worked in the produce department, and was having a healthy affair with Rainbow Swiss Chard.  All the colors and anti-oxidants, fueling him into more of a wiry little muscle man.
   Too, Ann had heard the tales of his fancy fisticuffs.  Always for noble purpose.  But like a Saint gone warrior, as was Joan of Arc--the first rule about FIGHT CLUB is you don't talk about FIGHT CLUB; indeed, a man speaking with boisterous bravado usually has nothing to deliver, and uses a gun as an extension of his lack of pure libido--in Ann's opinion.
   Anyway, she liked Chad's gray eyes and dirty-blonde mane, a bit curly, yet he had the trait most women find attractive in a man--a dark brow.  But not too dark.  Not like two mustaches from a Middle-Eastern dictator.  No, it was pure elegance, and Ann knew too:  Chad had an electric spirit.  

Children of the Luminous Light (1)

   
   "Children of the Luminous Light (1)"
   
   Ann paged through her distracted memory, though happy to know that the serpent's head was forecast to be crushed by a virgin's foot an approximate 5,000 years ago, and Ann was a 24 year-old virgin herself.  Her pseudo-friends kept telling her:  "But you are incarnate."
   Ann never let go, knowing the Litany of the Blessed Virgin, remembering:  "Mirror of justice, Virgin most merciful, Virgin most powerful, Lover of chastity, Lover of poverty, and so on."
   Her friends all laughed and snorted at her with angry puffs of hostility, not able to make the gorgeous, young girl fall into the dark pit.  Ann was content with low-rent, a grocery market job, smiling at the customers, and walks in the park with her sisterly dog, Frances.
   She had spent much time with her Grandfather during her adolescence before he passed, him always telling her:  "You will find many people who speak with forked tongues, and you may too at times, but shake it off, remembering your family is truly those who do the will of God."
   She missed Grandpa; plus, missed her sister lost unto corporate greed, believing in vanity of spirit, hubris hungry, and grabbing every dollar that floated her way, but Ann prayed for the light to enter her sister, to see the beauty of chatty chipmunks and eagles soaring with praise for something Divine.
   Her and Frances were walking sweetly in the park, telepathically telling each other:  "No problem mate."  She never could get enough of other cultures, knowing God forged it all, and while most fall, she was a loyal dog, not merely trying, but truly fighting the good fight, though a nasty stumble here and there, as the forces of darkness are upon the risk takers for true love.
   Would she ever meet her knight in shining armor she sometimes wondered, and would she know if he was truly nice or not?  Test every spirit.  But more than that.  And homeward, to her modest dwellings, burning candles, and not resisting evil, but letting it grasp her luminous light, morphing it stupefied, or sending it away with contemplation of making a possible change.  It didn't matter.  All is in God's Hands, and yes--it has been written in stone, mostly.  

1975 Pontiac Firebird--what!?!

   
   "1975 Pontiac Firebird--what!?!"
   
   A bit ambiguous, confusing to me, very much so, based on my mercurial research; still, this reminds of all guys in the 1970's having a mid-life crises and purchasing one, to be like SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT or perceive its release in 1977, as did my cool, well-lit biological father.  Am confused about the Trans Am essence of it all.  Anyway, here goes:

Rocket Block Purchased--

455 Cubic Inches.

200 horses.

300 lb-ft torque.

Quarter Mile:  16.1 at around 88 MPH.

  Not bad.  Too, of that year--there was the fiery and underestimated Monza, either given energy by way of a Vega 4-cylinder, or a small block V-8.  

1968 Plymouth Road Runner

   
   "!968 Plymouth Road Runner"
   
   Why Wile E. Coyote could never catch the Road Runner?  Here's an example; specifically, the 1968 Plymouth Road Runner, selling regular, it possessed:  383 cubic inches with 335 horsepower, and 425 lb-ft torque; however, with a HEMI it doth transcend, and remember:  MOPAR is an acronym for--Massively Overpowered And Respected--here are the HEMI specs and performance:

426 Cubic Inches.

425 Horsepower.

490 lb-ft torque.

0-60:  5.3 seconds.

Quarter Mile:  13.55 seconds.

   Some places out West, there are no speed limits; thus, the Road Runner still haunts the highway, dancing like quicksilver on the asphalt ballet of it all.  

(Pope) Linus; plus, the Great Pumpkin

   
   "(Pope) Linus; plus, the Great Pumpkin"
   
   Linus, the second Pope, continuing the solid formation of the ROCK, kinda/sorta births Linus (theologian/philosopher) from PEANUTS.
   Christ mentioned in the Good News of Matthew that we must make ourselves like unto little children in order to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.  
   So, on All Hallows Eve, Linus from PEANUTS is a child, believing in the Great Pumpkin.  And though it does not typically arrive, it does, broadcast from everlasting to everlasting.  
   Sally's refusal to lift up her friend's arms, as were Moses' arms lifted up for him by friends and brothers when he became tired, proves the axiom that two can be stronger than one--if we believe.
   Therefore, God has granted us guardian angels to lift up our arms, if we fear Him, and do His Good Will.  

2016 Chevrolet Camaro SS

   
   "2016 Chevrolet Camaro SS"

   The word "Camaro" is mysterious, possibly meaning:  friend, companion, shrimp; regardless, forged to compete with the wild and free-running Mustang, that persevering pony car; moreover, get the better of it.  Muscle is not gone in the modern age of automobiles.  Here are the approximate specs and performance of the behemoth-like yet benevolent 2016 Chevrolet Camaro SS--like this:
  
455 pounds of torque per foot; specifically, torque meaning:  force that manipulates and causes rotation--gotta get that power to the tires, for horsepower sells cars, yet torque wins races.  

Horsepower:  455.

0-6:  3.9 seconds.

Quarter Mile:  12.3 seconds at 116 MPH.

Engine:  6.2 liter, and totally:  an eight-cylinder.