Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Howard Finster's words on one of his early folk art works kept playing in my brain today as I fumed to myself in the kitchen today.

I prepared a gallon of elderberry juice this morning then moved on to the daunting task of turning the peck of feral winesap apples into apple butter. I don't like to do things the easy way so I'm extracting the pulp with my hands and grinding up spices. This was an all day chore. I just finished up 13 pints of this glorious russet colored spicey apple jam. My house smells like Christmas from all of the allspice, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg.

Anyway, as I'm slaving away, I have the T.V. on CNN. The entire Pat Robertson story has been burning me up. Pat Robertson had repulsed me for decades now. He is and has been the personification of evil on Earth for years and it surprises me that certain segments of the right wing are only just getting around to seeing this.

So this man, who has publicly prayed for God to kill one of the sitting Supremes, has now called for the execution of Venezuela's president Chavez. And prayed publicly for that to happen. So today he apologizes...but offered "kidnapping" as an alternate suggestion.

I believe in a God. And because I believe in a God, I have to believe that there is some special corner of hell, more horrific than anything we could possibly conceive of, where the evil little toad men like Robertson and Falwell will be locked together in some insanely profane embrace for all of eternity.

There won't be any spicey apple butter there and there definitely won't be no cold cokes in hell.


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