Women’s day

Well, girls, how are we going to celebrate the great day, after all, they gave us the vote a hundred years ago, yeah, says molly that’s something to celebrate, they are even going to give us equal pay with men, and they recognize the rearing of children as a Job, aha, only since they have to pay childcare, remember the days. Solomon sighed, he was imagining the party and the parade, the big get together, well, there was always shopping.

In a world under going great change, it was a time to reflect on the great change, freedom wasn’t as free as some thought it was, and his own upbringing was a reminder. Running home from school or on the cycle, dumping the school bag, and wondering what Mother had for treats, a mother at home, the most welcome gift a child could imagine. Now, well, they called it the advancement of society, how many women would love to afford to be at home minding their children, priceless,  everyday.

If it was women’s day, what would you do, just thinking out loud.


Getting along, understand your neighbors, no real divisions, sounds like heaven, one side of the coin, the dispossessed, the vulnerable, the victims of their upbringing, the inability to escape family values, the interests the family share, failing politicians, and the right wing left wing extremism, busy burrowing into the psyche via the internet, and the fake news syndrome, those pushing agendas causing chaos, undermining, in the hope of unsettling everyone who does not share their views, the other side of the coin.

Solomon was talking with an Islamic professional, and in the course of the chat, Solomon was doing the talking, his Islamic friend says, this extremism, it’s been going on all across the world, have you not noticed. Both He and Solomon were believers, and he wondered, what was all the difference about. When examined, his friend was right, the stress caused by extreme Islam, the non loving version, had been a cancer across the Islamic world for quite some time, and the source of many wars,far away nations got involved in. Then there was the question of Jesus, recognized by all the main religions, the bridge between them all. Why had no one tried to build that bridge. Perhaps, it was time for this to happen. Allowing the extremists to dictate to the rest of us was tyranny. A common prayer was needed, amen.

Into the west, the situation was much the same. far right, extreme left hoping to take advantage of the so called change. Was it not a time for a reasoned debate on the prospect facing us all. Solomon was just saying it. There was a growing band of disenchanted souls, and they were not alone, and there are these extreme groups waiting to size them up. Dear Father in Heaven, keep an eye on their plans and turn them into babbling fools, amen.

The Entity

We can read their minds, bribe them, we know their thoughts, we are their Gods. Solomon was watching the demon minded, their invisible threat, and what they had in mind. He’d the Holy Spirit within him, a gift from God Most High, use it wisely, he did, to undermine the entity.

They trawl the minds, they have to avoid the heart, Love is their greatest threat, same as a good Clint Eastwood movie, when they get together, they acquire “Faith” of all things, what, that stuff that makes you do kind and stuff, makes them abhor violence, will even require you to love, Faith, the burden of the demon, The Strength of God.

Life is told in stories and Jesus was the best at if, for pure simplicity. By pass the head, go straight for the heart, do it together, and you will become a friend of the Almighty, amen.

The Details

What’s this fascination with gore, brutality, ugly and pure fear, the details, we love to read the details or are we fed them just to make us all a little more insensitive,  dehumanizing us a little further, reducing our power to shock, that was only a slash, you should see a real stabbing, the blood is everywhere, the details, the artery was severed and there was blood on the ceiling, but the brain tissue spread was all over the bed clothes, and from the bulge in the aorta you can see it was a stressful time for the victim, the news has to be gory or we

wont read on. Solomon was in a situation, the usual, one soul with something the others were deemed to want too, was lording it over the others, was it the same story, just from another angle. of course, without the details, we can’t build up the trauma or the anxiety, it just ain’t the same is it. did you see the cut down the back, it went from the fourth vertebrae to the lower back, what damage, doesn’t it look artistic, the details he sighed, we get lost in details, as they tend to merge with our emotions somehow, but we were trying to be helpful! in the meantime, 200 million children daily and growing, i’m being very generous, the figure is far higher, blame the details of course, but …..

Harmony in Heaven

The squires of Heaven, busy again. Nelson Mandela is chatting up Whitney,

Elvis is teaching God Most High guitar, St Peter is doing the usual press release,

God is sharper than Eric Clapton, Elvis is stunned. You learned that in a minute, he says in that drawl, St Peter is a slow typist, Steve Jobs is showing him an apple, can I bite it laughs Peter,  That isn’t funny quips God. The mood among the gathering is high, the evil front is on the run, it’s total harmony, and the angels are moving easily, cutting down one by one, the threads of the evil web, in a matter of time there will be none.

One last push states God, they are getting it right down there, I haven’t laughed this much, his joy is as infectious as a cherished child, anyone with a special request he smiles, he’s ready to pour out his graces, a double dose of the miraculous is on, an Irish Monk, a celebrated preacher while on earth, fosterer of faith is centre stage,

He has his list of prayer requests, there are tears in his eyes, understands the hopes of many are coming through, he remembers some old friends, in particular a small bunch of cheerful nuns, they feed the poor and clothe everyone, they have a crisis in funding, and have been praying to Father Nivard, he’s long way from Tipperary, the old monk who preached so well. He’s a wink in his eye, a bottle of Irish whiskey in his hand, he can drink as much as he wants, doesn’t get tipsy anymore, no one ever in Heaven feels unwell.

He looks at Whitney, a hymn for an old man he wonders; she reads his mind and sings him Christmas carols instead.

How’s the boy doing down there, God looks at Peter, I sent then your instructions, he’s eating porridge as requested, and is being guarded as well.

Mother Christmas enters the den, she’s a former model, but is golden looking, is Irish of course, and she sings a duet every evening, with the honey voiced singer, Eva Cassidy as her back up.

The elders are assembled, waves of men and women, the dining room goes on for miles and miles, stretches , and the wine is being served. Johnny cash is giving a warm up performance, Otis Redding is waiting in the aisle, patience quips God, to Otis, this is going on for ever. John Lennon wants to get in on the act, you believe now laughs God, and you thought it was all imagination, it brings John to tears.