Contact us
Back to All Posts

Black Sabbath: With God and Satan at my side. and Trump in the middle, leaning largely left toward Lucifer. Could Trump Ever truly be Jesus? Or even Pope Leo? As there appears to be one of those deadly sins, envy. First, Trump would last on the cross about as long as an alleged joe biden thought. To last even seconds longer, he’d have to master omnipotence, like he thinks his army’s have. Track record: Look at his omniscience!

Trump vs. Pope Leo? I’ll take God. And even most atheists would agree with the first part. The battle against Trump becomes more universal.

Trump as Jesus? This is an even easier call. I’ll take The Christ not The Donald. But wait, Trump said, or at least pictured, I am He? While facing foes he did not fight with while in The Garden, not Madison Square, and not while entertaining lavishly at a gala at Mar-A-Lago. Trump could take a lesson. Or he could read The Good Book more. (But he does seem to know what a Sacred Heart is, or at least how to show it pictorially. More on that later.)

— Going off in other political directions, yet another metro-area police chief, son of sorts of another and another, has been called out for alleged bad deeds. So that’s 10 misconductly mired mischief meanderings per year, three to name it. That should flag yah.

Speaking of which, and other wordplay, we back up a bit and set Easter aside and assimilate instead a bailiff bailed ballroom blitz and also expensive golden arch by the lover of McDonalds, a straight on for you with an oil strait that he couldn’t get straight or well oiled with warfare/ceasefires, and a fixation on fixing the crux of collegiate cage and grid quagmire. Aren’t there better facsimiles to focus on? —

There is a Dire Straits song, Industrial Disease, which has a passage concerning the religious types who hand out mailers at airports: “Two men think they’re Jesus, One of them must be wrong. There’s a protest singer, he’s singing a protest song.” I will rewrite this: “Three men say they’re Jesus, This is all going wrong. There’s no protest singers, they’ve banned all protest songs.”

All this said, I don’t think Trump would fare very well on a cross. He is used to having butlers and such serve him Chardonnay and Champagne, not soldiers sticking over to him bitter vinegar. And even that was On High. No Big Mac and Big Fish, which is apparently why he looks like a blue whale, the best you might get is a spat of paste. No one, whether high priest or lieutenant, ever ripped open their garments over Trump’s actions. I do have the gall to say this. For a reason.

The lesson here is that Jesus continues to have influence, with/over atheists and Christians alike, so it is not a good idea — or politically expedient — to pretend you are He.

And back to the cross, Trump’s brittle ankles that kept him from even a desk job in war times would not hold up well if thick spikes were driven through them. (These weren’t just tiny needle-size penny nails, we tend to sanitize the crucifiction, in part by thinking His feet were placed on a mounting where He could maintain balance.) Trump is more like Satanizing it, as he is very arguably more like the Antichrist, (use the search function to find a past post analyzing this), and certainly not The Chosen One. Even in presidential elections, if every vote were weighed and counted and used. The crown of thorns and pulling off of hair and any beard would really mess with his coiffed rug. And he would be required to strip out of his blue suit with red tie, at least down to his undies, and the last person who wanted to see that was Stormy Daniels, but she quickly backed off. Melania only wants to view it every week or two and hey, only when he puts on fresh socks, pants and shirt. And even if you’ve wormy worn out from those on fire with more than bonfire, and other observations, you can still sort it out with lots of reading, but it’s tough and not everyone’s thing. Trump might use, if not receive, a whipping, from the hand of Stormy Daniels or one of the kinkier ones in her fraternity who do strong fetish. This might be his ticket. But I doubt it’s anywhere near the severity of a real S&M scourging, much less what Christ had to endure, much more painful, as with as all skin and some muscle ripped to shreds.

The AntiChrist, like Satan, is not necessarily pure evil but is painted in The Bible as being a liar and deceiver. Bingo! What more evidence do we need, as another higher up screamed about Jesus and his trial testimony. If someone actually spit in Trump’s face — his real jowls, not those on so many monument depictions.

I asked my mom for any comment or reaction that would be forthcoming, to this equation. Trump implies that he is Jesus, in AI art posted online. I once joked to my doctor, when asked if I have any delusions, that I’ve none, except that I’m God … So I have now, years later passed, been preempted. Damn the luck. The doctor laughed heartily. Mom managed a slight chuckle, and then yeah ha ha, a lot of a response from her.

Of those coming to Pope Leo’s defense, as he is simply putting out the call for peace, as is his job, and we need to face it, peace is political, a significant percent are atheists, three of the first seven commentators I saw, with one even saying the current pope is now one of his heroes — and long on that list has been Jesus Christ. Our various theologies are much more nuanced and overlapping than we think. And each man takes their own lane up the track.

It is a Catholic symbol that is almost unmistakable that is very telling. In Trump’s AI photo, inside his left hand, he clutches a shining orb that appears to actually be, on close inspection, a Sacred Heart, a Christian symbol indelibly aligned with Jesus Christ. The Sacred Heart, because of its very narrow set of meanings, and maybe only one, has a pigeonholing effect. The “orb” is actually more like a heart, although glowing white not red, with rays of light that could also be seen as spears and arrows piercing this Sacred Heart, which is what they do in Catholicism going back centuries. However, even many Catholics don’t really know what it is. So maybe Trump, the ultimate secular president, despite his occasional forays at bringing in God, when convenient, knows more about Christianity than we think. Or at least has an advisor or two who does.

Finally, Pope Leo would not be there without Trump? So who brought on Putin?

Share the Post:

Related Posts

  • I’ll be brief and punchy with this headline notation, as we transition to giving you more and sometimes shorter choices. And you may notice some of that as you beckon forward. It’s circular. Like a flush. Be careful what you mix, heads vs. text, drinks vs. food, and all kinds of potions — that may go bump in the night. —– Punchy, potentially, but I digress or progress with a new patriotic addition.
My mom has told me not to be a potty mouth when I write, as she certainly would not appreciate hardly any of the standup humor on say, Comedy Central Radio. SNL maybe. But after 11:30 p.m. … But there comes a time where a man must make a stand. And for this jokester, it was now when he had to choose whether to pass on the opportunity that would otherwise bite him in the butt, for in front of and behind him is the Mother Lode. Or should I say load. Or “Mothers” of Invention. Heh heh, heh heh, Butthead, look...
Read More
  • This coulda been Vanna White’s next Big gig In The Sky, if the scaffolding was not so high. So this is how the project went, by the letters and numbers, of get Trump’s name erased from the Kennedy Center. The $250 bill might be tougher. Sad but true. So, What are there more of going on right now, wars or Trump pet construction projects?
So the wall is down. Of letters, that is. Not down by Mexico. Cemented into the concrete. Of the Kennedy Center. Where music has sat. (Near where a now defunct wrestling arena rusts in peace. Or a bloodied White House lawn. With leftover paper cups and plates, more likely bowls and small utensils, anyone?) Or more ornate than inside? A tarp the size of Pennsylvania, the predominant battle state, covers workers as they chip. So geez, how big are the letters? Four times 50 living workers high? But now none remain, or so we are told by flunkies. Or is...
Read More
  • Stressed out as a caregiver? She’s back at yah. This is a rare case of a husband and wife being joint caregivers — for each other — aided and abbetted by the fact that they have a lot of the same disabling conditions. So she shovels snow using a walker/scooter, while he cooks gingerly using a microwave and offers her a plate when she sits down, in an easy chair, in a reversal and new take on traditional roles. Whatever it takes. Necessity is the mother of invention. —– In a new add, Towns and the champion Knicks got kicked around but still got their kicks in the long run … As do Norwegian dancers.
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
Read More
  • He says, and goes fishing with the boys. She says, then goes to the middle of Texas, inviting her mates to a ranch/villa built for the ages. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were on the same night, but though very different, they had some things in common … like the snakes, at least three kinds, to avoid. (None with exotic dancer.) But while away, they did not avoid each other, completely. He made a phone call. —– Just added, last call included a Carolina cowpoke.
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
Read More
  • Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, a when jumping inside, inside joke.)
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Read More
  • Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Read More
Scroll to Top