My end of year musings.
Fashion. I don’t normally recognize, with grace, famous sodomites on their passing, but I’m making an exception. Brother Pierre Cardin left this world after a full 98 years of life. I honor him for the beauty he bestowed on our world. I certainly would never have worn anything he designed (I’m far too rigid), but so many beautiful women were made more so by his clothing. He also made menswear and I have purchased many of his ties over the years for my preacher. He became a merchandise whore by having his name on practically every kind of product from lingerie to Lincolns. Well done, thou good and faithful servant. But I’m resent him for encouraging women to wear pants. That’s just wrong.
Flash. My heart goes out to the people of Nashville in the aftermath of the explosion there on Christmas Day. I rejoice that death and injury was so much milder that it could have been. I’ll never understand why that man felt he needed to drive his RV downtown and then detonate the entire thing in an explosive flash with him inside. It’s all rather unsettling. But here’s my question. Why in the world was he playing music from the RV before the blast? Particularly the song “Downtown”? Sister Petula Clark’s career bombed years ago. Why must it happen again?
Fraud. Let us fall to our knees as we turn our backs on 2020. This year has been truly vicious in its occurrences and happenstances. So many are raising hands in praise for the coming of 2021. I, however, remain cautious. The Lord moves in mysterious ways and I just don’t want to second guess what befalls us in the NEW year. Still, in response to all that 2020 brought us, I am quite tempted to insist that the entire year has been fraud and I’m considering all ways, no matter how desperate, to sue the heck out of the nearest calendar. Amen?