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THANKSGIVING IN THE AGE OF THE APOCALYPSE

DEAR READERS:  In case this is your first time stopping by my place, let me catch you up to speed.  This is an ongoing blog about trying to reach God via phone because I can’t seem to get a face-to-face meeting with him during these chaotic times.  When I was an Evangelical Christian, I used to think he chatted with me all the time—like eating lunch on a daily basis with a chummy, gossipy gay hairstylist.  Then many years ago, I realized it probably wasn’t God—just my schizophrenic DNA mixed with false teachings by very silly preachers.  Be that as it may, I still believe in God and need to get some answers before I truly lose my mind over the chaos-ridden, apocalyptic era currently turning our planet into a living hell.  I mean, who else can I ask?  This is my “Waiting for Godot” moment:  “Is this all there is? Do you really care? Does God exist?  If so, why have you abandoned us?  Why are the liars, robber barons, and the NRA winning?  Is Trump the Anti-Christ, and is this the Apocalypse?  Will all of California have to completely burn to the ground before the Republicans acknowledge man-made climate change as a major culprit to our global instability?”

I’ve yet to hear from God.  If you need to catch up on my anxiety-ridden train of thought, you’ll find my other “prayer” messages filed under: “Are you listening (or paying attention) God?” via a series of “Voicemail Messages to God” which are essays of fanciful (sometimes heartbreaking) queries in my past blog posts.  This is my fifth installment:  “God, is this the Zombie Apocalypse?  You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?  Should I cancel Thanksgiving?  What’s there to be thankful for if the entire world’s going to hell in a hand basket at the speed of light?  Jesus, you have my digits—please call me!  Inquiring minds really need to know if this is the end!”

GOD’S VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of GOD at 1-800-PRA-TOME.  So glad to hear from most of you with a few exceptions.  If this phone call is from that pest, Eleanor Tomczyk, who has been nagging me day and night with the same prayer regarding Donald Trump (“Save us oh God, deliver us, oh God”), I called you the other day and you didn’t pick up the phone.  (What’s that old saying: ‘If you snooze, you lose, Baby?’)  Do you think you’re the only human I love who is panicked, horrified, and at their wits end regarding their circumstances?  Next time—keep your phone on you.  Right now, California is burning and needs my grace.  In the meantime, Thanksgiving is coming and you should count your blessings and cut me some slack with your incessant complaints.  As blessed lives go, you’re doing okay.  For all others, please leave a message at the end of the Hallelujah Chorus and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Trust me…I’m God, and I’m on the job!”

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, PoliticalCartoons.com

HI GOD:   This is Eleanor T.  It’s just a few days before Thanksgiving and I need to know whether I should skip it this year.  I mean…what’s the point.

By the way, I can’t believe you answered my calls the one time I wasn’t near my phone.  You’re omnipresent—didn’t you see that I was in the hospital doing a procedure and there was no cell service there?  Even if I could have gotten cell service, they made me leave my phone in a locker.  You didn’t see that mortifying procedure I was having that my ass doctor dubbed a “small bowel follow-through”—a procedure the hospital warned me could take up to eight hours?!  I was praying to you like crazy because I knew I was going to embarrass myself beyond all recovery.

Oh, the humiliation!  They made me strip down to my under pants, socks and sneakers, and stuffed me into a hospital gown.  They forced me to drink 32 ounces of a nasty white chalky liquid and walk in a loop through the hospital halls for ONE HOUR at a pace that resembled a mouse being chased by a feral cat.  My tits were hanging down to my waist (you know I haven’t gone without a bra since I was ten years old—I even wear one to bed), and I could feel the breeze blowing up my ass as my hospital gown flapped slightly open at every turn.)  Every once in a while, a Nurse Ratched-type would jog alongside me to make sure I wasn’t going to bite the dust or she’d snatch me into a room for a drive-by x-ray of my innards (“Get back out there, Kiddo…the dye has only gotten through half of your small intestine—you know it’s twenty-three-feet long, don’t you?!”), and then she’d put me back on the track before I could say, “WTFI hate you!”  Didn’t you see me zooming past bored doctors, horrified patients on their way to be operated on, and a not-too-bright security guard who wondered where in the hell I was going half naked and slightly crazed?  (I told him I had escaped from the psyche ward and wanted to get in my morning constitutional before I blew that Popsicle stand.  Ever notice how rent-a-cops never have a sense of humor?)

That was two days ago and the aftermath has not been pretty: I’m bloated, constantly farting, and have been popping out snow ball colored poops every other minute. I can’t leave the house. God, I think you hate me.  What did I ever do to piss you off to garner such suffering and humiliation?

Anyway, enough about me.  At least you answered my prayers about the mid-term elections—I think.

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star-Tucson, AZ

The day after the mid-terms, it looked as if the Blue Wave all kind-hearted people had prayed for was barely a ripple, and that the Trump madness would continue to go unchecked.  I was so disappointed and depressed that you hadn’t answered my prayers, which is when I called up my ass doctor and scheduled the bowel follow-through, an endoscopy, and a colonoscopy.  I mean, what the hell.  (I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it was my childish grown-up version of threatening to go sit in the dirt and eat worms since I didn’t get my way.)  Did you get my voice-mail message that I was canceling Thanksgiving also because I didn’t feel there was much to be thankful for in our new-normal apocalyptic state?

But then things started to turn…and they are still turning.  You showed up (or I should say, you answered my prayers by making the voters show up).  Trump doesn’t know it yet, but your fist of righteousness mingled with our boots on the ground and “woke” crusades, will continue to expand the Blue Wave every day until he is undone.  That dude’s going down.  I can feel it in my bones.  I just don’t know when or how.

Cartoon used by permission: Kevin Siers, The Charlotte Observer, NC

In the meantime, Dear God, I’m going to roll into Thanksgiving with my “praise on” because people are beginning to get “woke” and are figuring out how to handle that awareness.  Bad things are still happening each and every day with Trump in office, but I do believe there is hope for us.  I know that I’ve got a lot to be thankful for in my own life.  I promise you that I’ll stop whining and lend my hands, heart, prayers, and resources to those who have less because that is what you’ve called us all to do for our fellowman in hard times.  Besides, the thing I’m truly grateful for is my state of mind and the fact that I am no longer deceived by my religion or my politics because in the words of H.L. Mencken, what I’m most thankful for is:

“In this world of sin and sorrow there is always something to be thankful for; as for me, I rejoice that I am not a Republican.”

Oh, and God, hopefully we can have a real in-depth conversation soon.  I just got a transcript of the message you left for me the day I was in the hospital for my ass procedure, and it is a tiny bit concerning.  The message said:  “Be grateful for what you’ve been given each and every day because things are going to get far worse before they get better for both your ass and the country.”  Jesus, do you know something I don’t know?  Is that a warning about my upcoming colonoscopy and endoscopy exams?  Is Trump going to be re-elected in 2020?  OH GOD, SAVE US (SAVE MY ASS); DELIVER US (DELIVER MY ASS)…

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle, GA

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WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle, CagleCartoons.com

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 17, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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SCARY TIMES

DEAR READERS:  Have you been in touch with God, lately?  I’ve left him a gazillion messages and haven’t heard a peep.  Just wanted to let him know that our world really needs him right now.  Also, if you do happen to chat with him, let him know that I’m trying to decide what costume to wear for Halloween, and I’d like to ask him to turn the tide in the election next week to curtail the Hater in Chief in the White House.   Let God know when you hear from him that he’ll (or she’ll) find my copious other “prayer” messages filed under: “Are you Listening (or paying attention) God?”  For your edification Dear Reader, what follows is the fourth installment of a “Voicemail Message to God” which is a short essay on another universal question I wish God would answer about life: “God, what is your end game?”

Scary Times John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia Missourian

GOD’S VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of GOD at 1-800-PRA-TOME.  As you might have guessed, if this call is from the United States, I’m sitting Shiva.  I will not be answering phone calls about anything first-world related while I’m in mourning with the city of Pittsburgh.  AMERICANS:  YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR NATION:  GO OUT AND VOTE ON NOVEMBER 6TH!  DON’T BLOW IT AGAIN. I WON’T DO FOR YOU WHAT YOU REFUSE TO DO FOR YOURSELVES. Please leave a message after the tone.”

***

Hello GOD:  It’s Eleanor—again!  I don’t mean to become a pest, but I’ve been trying to get you to call me back for ages now.  I certainly understand why you are out-of-reach at the moment, but that is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.

It’s getting scarier and scarier out here.  Halloween is here and who wants to wear a scary costume these days when our very own Victor Frankenstein in the White House has cooked up a Molotov cocktail of hated and division that is roaming our country seeking whom it may devour.

Hate It is Alive Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle GA

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle, GA

God, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but you know the massacre in Pittsburgh could have all been prevented, don’t you?  You wouldn’t have to be sitting Shiva for the massacre at the Tree of Life Synagogue Congregation had you listened to my prayers.  Eleven people would still be alive and we’d have a lot more hope in our hearts if you had acknowledged my hysteria over the tiki-torch waving, khaki-trouser wearing White men in Charlottesville last year.  Remember in 2017 when the White supremacists hoisted the Nazi flags in Charlottesville as they marched around the Confederate statue and shouted, “Jews will not replace us?”  Instead of our Commander in Chief squishing this hateful monster like the giant demonic cockroach that it is, he said there were “good people on both sides.”  I had hoped you would have sent one of his many sycophantic Christian counselors to let him know that “good people” chanting “Jews will not replace us” is an oxymoron. Actually, I wished you had come to him in his sleep like the ghost of Bob Marley.

Venom Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch OH

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch, OH

Anyway, dear God, besides getting a little input from you as to what Halloween costume I should wear, I was hoping I could ask you a question that is bugging the hell out of me: “What is your end game for us with this science experiment of a President?”  The scariest costume of all this year is the orange pumpkin with yellow hair which espouses venom toward his opponents and the media, as the whole world watches his followers take up Trump’s call to arms against all those he hates.

Trump inspired Hate Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, The Salt Lake Tribune, UT

Lord, have mercy on us.  I guess I’d like to know how much more of this vileness we must endure before you let the Great Pumpkin in the White House know that you’re God and he ain’t.  I have a suggestion:  How about sending him a message on blast on Nov. 6th?  The world will breathe a great sigh of relief.

Vote or Die

Celebrity Voting Campaign T-Shirts

Well Jesus, I would love to get your input and guidance after November 6th because I’m either going to want to do a shout-out of praises to you or I’m going to need a strait jacket costume for Halloween and beyond.

Talk soon.  Your devoted follower, ET

Halloween Political Scares Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, PoliticalCartoons.com

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WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

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Tree of Life Names Bruce Plante Tulsa World

Cartoon used by permission: Bruce Plante, Tulsa World

We also remember the two African-American victims in the recent fatal shooting at the Kroger’s in Louisville, KY which police have labeled a hate crime.

May they never be forgotten:  Maurice E. Stallard, 69, and Vickie Lee Jones, 67,

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Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on October 30, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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GOING, GOING, GONE…SOULS FOR SALE!

DEAR READERS:  Have you seen God?  He really seems to be AWOL!  I need to alert him to the fact that Americans are selling their souls in droves and at wholesale prices—increasingly so, and every damn day.  Do you think he’s aware of what is going on?  If you do hear from God, would you please pass on the phone message I just left for him.  It’s urgent!  Tell God when you see him that he’ll (or she’ll) find my copious other “prayer” messages filed under: “Are you Listening (or paying attention) God?”  What follows is the third installment of a “Voicemail Message to God” which is a very short essay on another universal question I wish God would answer about life: “What does it take to sell one’s soul?”

Souls for Sale Beachcombing Bizarre history blog

Courtesy of Beachcombing Bizarre History Blog

GOD’S VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Jehovah at 1-800-PRA-TOME.  Gone star-gazing in a galaxy far, far away where the beings operate in love and peace, truth and honor. Feel free to leave a message, but I have no idea when I’ll get back to you.  I am truly sick and tired of being sick and tired with the human species on Earth and need to clear my head before I do something drastic that I may regret (can you say, “Noah’s Ark?”). 

***

DEAR GOD:  It’s Eleanor. Oy vez mir!  Do I ever need to talk to you!

My God…did you know that the Anti-Christ has unveiled himself?  Right here in America!

Christians elect the anti christ meme

My Lord, I looked up the definition of “Anti-Christ,” and the online dictionary said:

A personal opponent of Christ expected to appear before the end of the world.

  A person or thing regarded as supremely evil or as a fundamental enemy or opponent.

A great antagonist expected to fill the world with wickedness but to be conquered forever by Christ at his second coming.”

You might ask why I suspect the President of the United States to be the anti-Christ.  I mean, after all, one could easily have said that about Hitler.  Well that is why I’m calling — I have proof Trump is the anti-Christ:  People are selling their souls to him left, right, and center.   Just last week, a famous Black rapper (Kanye West) ripped out his soul, barbecued it on the altar of Trump, and served it up as pâté on a cracker.  It was a sight to behold:  degrading, embarrassing, disgusting, and horrific. It was like watching a massive train wreck and not being able to turn away from the carnage.

Kanye West and Trump Vogue Meme

IMGFLIP.COM/Meme of 2014 Kayne West and Kim Kardashian Vogue cover

A couple weeks before that debacle with Kanye West and Trump, a man was confirmed to the Supreme Court (Brett Kavanaugh)—ushered onto the bench by the mocking laughter of the Anti-Christ in Chief who led hundreds of contemptuous supporters at a rally against the woman Kavanaugh allegedly assaulted.  As the crowd screamed “Lock her up,” all I could do was weep for myself and every woman who has tried to tell someone her story of assault, only not to be believed and ridiculed in the process.

The Talk David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission:  David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

God, I don’t know if you were watching, but Kavanaugh was not proven innocent. All those mockers at the rally, and the old angry White men in the Senate sold their souls to Trump and rushed through a man temperamentally unfit (at the very least) to sit on the Supreme Court.  The problem is that I prayed 24/7 for you to vindicate Dr. Ford.  Since you didn’t return my call, I’m now praying that you flush out the truth on this dude with irrefutable evidence, and that in doing so, you jettison his sorry ass off the bench. If he lied—if he’s hiding something—save us from him and all the other Republicans who sold their souls on Kavanaugh’s behalf.

Caving on Kav David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons,The Arizona Star Tucson, AZ

In the meantime, while the anti-Christ in the Oval Office cozies up to yet another brutal dictator, I’m watching to see which politicians and religious leaders carry the train of Saudi Arabia’s Mohammed bin Salman’s robe as they rush to sell their souls over the brutal murder of Jamal Khashoggi.  Pat Robertson (Head of the Christian Broadcasting Network) cashed his soul in yesterday when he said, “You’ve got one journalist — who knows? Was it an interrogation? Was he assassinated? Were there rogue elements? Who did it…? You’ve got $100 billion worth of arms sales…we cannot alienate our biggest player in the Middle East.” 

My question to Pat Robertson:  Who brings a bone saw to an interrogation?

Mitt Romney is in the process of relinquishing his soul as he tries to make his way back to the Senate.  Because you see all and hear all, I know you remember Romney being solidly in the never-Trump camp when he said:

“Dishonesty is Donald Trump’s hallmark … He’s not of the temperament of the kind of stable, thoughtful person we need as a leader. His imagination must not be married to real power … Donald Trump is a phony, a fraud. His promises are as worthless as a degree from Trump University. He’s playing the members of the American public for suckers … He has neither the temperament nor the judgment to be president.”

Oy, that was in 2016 when Romney had no power.  Now that he seems to be a shoe-in to the Senate and can sniff power like the intoxicating aroma of fresh brewed coffee, here’s the script he cashed in for his soul on Oct. 17th:  Trump’s policies “have been pretty effective, and I support a lot of those policies.”

Romney and Trump Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, The Salt Lake Tribune, UT

So here is my question sweet Jesus:  how much is a soul worth these days?  We Americans are a little confused, and I think we’re selling our souls much too cheaply since I hear the final cost is eternal damnation.  What say you, My Lord?

Looking forward to hearing from you…

Evangelicals and anti christ FB 1 David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 
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Posted by on October 18, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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WHAT’S PRAYER GOT TO DO WITH IT?

DEAR READERS:  These are desperate times, and because I increasingly wonder what or where God is in the mighty scheme of things (does he care, is he on vacation, or is he just late to the party?), I’ve decided to harangue God more than I usually do via persistent phone calls—so far my calls have gone straight to voicemail. What follows is the second installment of a “voicemail message to God” which is a very short essay on a universal question I wish God would answer about life: “What’s Prayer Got to Do with It?”

Praying for things Meme

GOD’S VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Jehovah at 1-800-PRA-TOME. I am experiencing a high call volume at this time—especially from the United States—but I will return your call as soon as is heavenly possible.  Please note that I operate on a triage system (‘the process of determining the priority of patients’ treatments based on the severity of their condition’). Leave your name, number, and your prayer request, and I will get back to you at some point.  May I bless you!”

***

HELLO, GOD.  IT’S ME, ELEANOR.  Looks like I’ve missed you again. Where are you, Jehovah-Jireh (my provider)?  I need to talk to you about something really, really important!   It’s about prayer and its efficacy—whose prayers you answer and why.  It’s about why conversational prayer always seems to be one way:  I talk, but you don’t say a word.  Oh, I know there are people who say you talk back to them (like you drop in for tea every Tuesday morning exactly at 10 o’clock), but have you noticed that they tend to be nuttier than a fruitcake?

I think most things I’ve been taught about prayer are all wrong.  I’ve had preachers tell me that you, God, are in control of all things, but I can change your mind by how specific my prayers are—the more specific I am, the more specific your answers will be to me.  (As if you are a divine waiter and I just need to bark: “Garçon! A raspberry LaCroix, straight up, with a splash of vodka and a twist of lime, mon dieu!”)   I used to know a preacher who prayed whether to put on shorts or long pants on any given day, whether to carry an umbrella that day, if he should part his hair on the left or the right, or if he should fast or gorge on the leftover pizza in the refrigerator.  (As if you hadn’t given us brains, weathermen, or the Keto Diet.)  I’ve known preachers who prayed for parishioners to win the lottery, just so long as they tithed 10% of their winnings, of course. (As if you were the Big Kahuna casino boss in the sky just waiting to “bless” your followers with ill-gotten gains.)

I can’t tell you how many fat-ass Christians I have known who prayed for a parking space up close to the front of the mall so that they wouldn’t have to engage in some much-needed exercise.  Can I say that if that is truly the level of prayers you’re answering these days, then I need a new God.  Just sayin’!

Jesus take the wheel prayer meme

Anyway, I know you answer my prayers (sometimes).  (Barack Obama didn’t get assassinated, served two terms, and had a scandal-free administration, didn’t he?  On the other hand, Hillary lost and Satan’s spawn became our President.  What happened there?  Wrong number?)  But recently, I’ve been hearing a lot of crazy people crowing about how great they are because you answered their prayers regarding Earth-shattering events that destroyed others.

Case in point:  Pat Robertson and Hurricane Florence.

In case you weren’t home at the time when Robertson did his warlock incantation in your name, he said:

“I don’t want that thing [Hurricane Florence] to come in,” Robertson said. “I don’t want it to hurt Regent [Robertson’s University], I don’t want it to hurt CBN [Robertson’s Television Network], I don’t want it to tear up the beautiful campus, I don’t want it to tear these trees down, I don’t want to see any damage, I don’t want a bunch of glass flowing, and I don’t want [damage] all over this area that is counting on us to pray for them.

“We declare in the name of the Lord that you shall go no farther, you shall do no damage in this area. We declare a shield of protection all over Tidewater and we declare a shield of protection over those innocent people in the path of this hurricane. In Jesus’ holy name, be out to sea!”

…and the next day, North Carolina and South Carolina said:  WTF, God—we prayed, too!?!

Florence Final Landing Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, PoliticalCartoons.com

Then Pat Robertson said:

“We asked the Lord to take it [hurricane Florence] out of here [Virginia] and he did,” Robertson boasted. “It’s like a shield that God has put around us [the coastal region of Virginia].”

“God’s people prayed,” he opined. “This is a miracle, ladies and gentlemen.”

“We’ve had a hand of protection over this area, and when we pray, God does miracles.”

As a Christian I was horrified by Robertson’s claim to a prayer hotline to you, oh God, and that you would do what he had demanded at the expense of other human beings.   Then I thought I heard a faint word in the wind (“Bullshit!”) when I was walking yesterday, and wondered if that was a message from you, and I remembered a Mark Twain quote when thinking about eighty-eight-year-old Robertson that day:

“I’ve never wished a man dead,

But I’ve read some obituaries with great pleasure.”

Robertson sleep by God Meme

Of course, I remembered that you don’t like “ugly,” so I quickly asked forgiveness (did you get that text message?)  I turned my meditation from wishing an old man dead to how many so-called Christians don’t believe in science, climate change, global warming, and the fact that the sea level is rising along with a growing population along our coastlines which gave me a very unoriginal “aha” moment about the Earth:  We’re so screwed!

Extreme Weather Sites Paresh Nath The Khaleej Times UAE

Cartoon used by permission: Paresh Nath, The Khaleej Times, UAE

Anyway, I’ve got to run.  I’ve got a first-world problem that needs tending to:  The grass seed I put down several weeks ago is not germinating, and my lawn looks like a weed farm that is moonlighting as a swamp.  (I thought about praying and asking you to heal the soil in my yard and give me a putting-green lawn, but then I remembered prayer doesn’t work that way, and you’re not a divine Mexican gardener on my staff named “Jesús” who is at my beck and call.)

Please call me back about this prayer thing.  I know you know that you’re my G-O-D no matter what, and I’ll keep on praying even if you never answer me.  I tell anyone who will listen that “in you I live and breathe and have my being.”  However, it’s not me you have to worry about. It’s my atheist brothers and sisters.  They are really having a hard time with the concept of you, and this prayer thing is a huge stumbling block.  Especially when there are Neanderthals like Pat Robertson running around pretending to have a hotline to you and spewing all sorts of verbal chaos in your name.

Robertson on Do not call list Mike Keefe San Miguel de Allende Mexico

Cartoon used by permission: Mike Keefe, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

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WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
3 Comments

Posted by on September 19, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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ARE YOU LISTENING GOD?

DEAR READERS: Guess what?  It has been seven years since I started my blog, and I’ve decided to change the format from the “Discovery Series (Do You Know What I Discovered Today)” to “Attempted Phone Calls to God from Down Below.”  These are desperate times, and because I increasingly wonder what or where God is in the mighty scheme of things (does he care, is he on vacation, or is he just late to the party?), I’ve decided to harangue God more than I usually do. My “voicemail messages” will be very short essays of universal questions I wish God would answer about life, and observations of evil and stupidity that I wish he would simply acknowledge and fix or summarily eradicate. The good news is, even though I’m changing the format, I plan to keep the cartoons which everybody seems to enjoy. 

Who knows, maybe I’ll start trending: #AREYOULISTENINGGOD

Woman Praying Silly Bunt Meme

VOICEMAIL MESSAGE #1: “IS THE END NEAR?”

VOICEMAIL GREETING:  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of Jehovah at 1-800-PRA-TOME. I am experiencing a high call volume at this time—especially from the United States—but I will return your call as soon as is heavenly possible.  Please note that I operate on a triage system (‘the process of determining the priority of patients’ treatments based on the severity of their condition’). Leave your name, number, prayer request, and I will get back to you at some point.  May I bless you!”

***

HELLO, GOD.  IT’S ME, ELEANOR.  Looks like you’re out again or something.  We seem to be playing phone tag as of late.  (I noticed that slight dig about a preponderance of calls from the United States on your voicemail message.  Were you talking about me?)  You’re the one who once said, “Are you weary, carrying a heavy burden? Then come to me.  I will refresh your life, for I am your oasis.”

Well, Oasis, no disrespect intended, but where are you?  In case you haven’t noticed, the United States is being led by a madman, and the rest of the world is getting its ass kicked by the Devil.

God asleep Angel Boligan El Universal Mexico City www caglecartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Angel Boligan, El Universal Mexico City, http://www.caglecartoons.com

I don’t mean to be impertinent, but if I don’t call you—who am I going to call–Ghostbusters?  You’ve said that I should “pray without ceasing.”  Well, every day—every single freakin’ day—I pray that you will save us and deliver us from Donald J. Trump.

And yet, heeeee’s still heeeerrre!

Although these last couple of days have had a weird patina about them—as if the end might be near.  Which is why I’m calling you.  Is this the end of the Trump madness?  Is the anonymous op-ed piece in the NY Times the last stages of Trump’s undoing or, even better, will the scathing, meticulously researched book, Fear, by Bob Woodward be the final nail in his coffin?

I’m sure you have an advanced copy of Fear (mine doesn’t arrive until Sept. 12th), but did you see that quote by Woodward:

“The reality was that the United States in 2017 was tethered to the words and actions of an emotionally overwrought, mercurial and unpredictable leader. Members of his staff had joined to purposefully block some of what they believed were the president’s most dangerous impulses. It was a nervous breakdown of the executive power of the most powerful country in the world.”

The End is near Marian Kamensky Austria

Cartoon used by permission: Marian Kamensky, Austria

Oh, my God, God!  And a portion of the anonymous op-ed to the NY Times pretty much says the same thing:

“The root of the problem is the president’s amorality. Anyone who works with him knows he is not moored to any discernible first principles that guide his decision making.”

Right before “Anonymous” wrote that damning sentence, the NY Times quoted him/her as saying:

“…the president continues to act in a manner that is detrimental to the health of our republic.

That is why many Trump appointees have vowed to do what we can to preserve our democratic institutions while thwarting Mr. Trump’s more misguided impulses until he is out of office.”

Fear by Bob Woodward Stephane Peray Thailand

Cartoon used by permission: Stephane Peray, Thailand

So, I’m calling to ask two questions:  1) who is “Anonymous”—our 2018 “Deep Throat,” and 2) are you in the process of busting Trump’s balls and breaking his knee caps?  (Need I remind you that you don’t let me get away with anything?)  All I have to do is think something catty about another human being while sipping my morning coffee, and you give me heartburn for the rest of the day.   I’m just sayin’:  Donald J. Trump’s litany list for a passport into Hell is endless and worthy of your damnation.

Anyway, if you tell me who “anonymous” is, I won’t tell anybody.  I promise.  I personally think it is Melania.   She didn’t write it, of course—she can barely speak English.  But I can see her dictating it to her staff, can’t you?   I’d be willing to bet my angel’s wings that she is the one because I secretly think she hates The Donald’s guts and has been waiting for a way and time to tell him “You’re fired!” for years.

Deep State Throat John Darko, Columbia MO

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia MO

Before I hang up, I just want to let you know that your White Right-wing Evangelicals have drunk the Kool-Aid–again.  Please, please, please ignore their prayers.  They are pinning all of their Trump Devil worship on being “God’s will.”  In fact, it would be fabulous if you purged them, and started all over again when you bring down Trump.  They’ve sold their souls lock, stock, and barrel to the Cheese-ball in Chief’s racism, cruelty, and lying which pretty much makes Trump Satan’s spawn and his supportive Evangelicals his demonic minions.  I know I’m not supposed to judge, but when something walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and acts like a duck, well then…

Evangelicals and the Devil David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star, Tucson, AZ

Anyway, God, stay tuned.  If I don’t hear from you by Thursday, I’ll be calling you again because Hurricane Florence is headed my way.  Lord, have mercy!

***

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Traitor Friends Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, The Salt Lake, Tribune, UT

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on September 9, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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WE’VE GOT TO GET AWAY FROM HERE

Do you know what I discovered since I’ve been gone?  First of all, I’ve been gone from blogging a very, very long time.  I really didn’t mean to step away that long, but Baby-girl got married and I decided that being fully present and involved in this wondrous event of my child’s life was my primary duty as a mother.  The sorrows and chaos of this world could wait a month or two while I got to revel in one of two major joys humans are afforded on this planet:  marriages and the birth of children (hopefully the second part of the equation will come soon for the newlyweds—“Your mother is not getting any younger, Baby-girl!”).

Author Toasting Bride and Groom

AUTHOR GIVING MOTHER-OF-THE-BRIDE SPEECH: “NAILED IT!”

It was such a glorious time.  Full of love and grace. Tons of laughter and warm camaraderie. People of different races, religions, and sexual orientations wishing another beautiful interracial couple a happy and fulfilling life.  Weather was a perfect 75 degrees, no rain, no bugs, and no Trump.  It felt as if Jesus were in our midst—so much loving, so much acceptance, so much tender caring.  For 72 hours at this destination wedding on a magnificent island in the U.S. of A, Trump’s name and destructive influence on our country and its people were never mentioned or thought about.  If there were some of his hardcore supporters among the wedding guests, they didn’t reveal themselves.

Roche Harbor

Roche Harbor| Photo Credit: Cynthia Richardson

So now I am home—back in the shit storm that is Trumplandia.  Since I’ve been gone, things seem to have gotten so much worse both nationally and locally.  I came out of my wedding bubble to the man in the White House dealing with more demons whispering in his ear than he had before I entered the wedding euphoria.   And the lying…oh, my God, his lying has increased exponentially.

Trump mentors Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star-Tribune MN

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune MN

Yet, Trump’s supporters still cling to his every word—especially his Right Wing Evangelical supporters which still has me in a state of shock (Jesus, are you watching this?).  The more Trump lies (7 – 10 times a day at the last calculation), the more his supporters worship him. The more his racism shows, the more they cheer him on and wrap themselves in things like the Confederate flag, White Supremacy, conspiracy websites, and Fox News.  I saw a poll when I returned that said 91% turn to the President for accurate information rather than their families or legitimate news organizations.  A friend just told me the other day that in a couple of prayer groups she attended, some of the members who are Trump supporters refused to pray for the border children who are still separated from their parents, may never be returned to their parents, and who are reportedly some are being abused by their caretakers. (And you ask me why I left the Church?)  Then I learned about some rabid Trump supporters in the vicinity (many of them churchgoers) who were trying to run roughshod over the rest of their community by hoisting the Confederate flag and celebrating its “glory” no matter who their actions hurt or terrorized. All I could think was which came first?  Did Trump and his demon ways awaken these horrid people from the swamp or did these horrid people awaken Trump?

Christian adoration of Trump Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, The Salt Lake-Tribune, UT

In the meantime, while all these agonizing thoughts were running through my head, it came to my attention that it was time for my annual physical.  Oh shit!  How did this come upon me so soon?  I had planned to lose those 20 pounds from the last time I saw my doctor six months ago.  In fact, I told him—swore on my mother’s grave—he wouldn’t have to worry about me shedding them because I had the wedding as an incentive. I was not going to be a fat mother-of-the-bride—no siree!  But, instead, I had gained five more pounds!

Can I confess something?  I hate going to the doctor because I never get all A’s, and for a perfectionist, that is a real pain in the ass.  It’s like being called to the principal’s office, being stopped by a White policeman when you’re driving while Black, and your father catching you sneaking back into the house after curfew—all at once.  I got a chance to review the lab results before the appointment, and they didn’t make me feel any better.  I’ve just turned 70 and every number counts.  Everything was elevated: my weight, my cholesterol, my A1C, and my blood pressure.  I just knew my doctor was going to be pissed at me and fire me as his patient.  I’ve been fired as a patient before because I take no grief from doctors (that’s another blog, entirely).  Instead, what he did do, shocked me so much, you could have knocked me over with a feather…

Doctor office meme

DOC. H:   Morning, Mrs. Tomczyk.  How’s everything?

TRUCULANT ME:  Not great, as you can see.  First of all, why do you and every doctor I’ve ever been to make me weigh in before the nurse takes my blood pressure?  Of course it’s going to be 160/90.  Your lyin’ scale just gave me the shock of my life!  And why is the scale always out in a public space?  I took off so many clothes to get a more accurate read of my weight that some old man put his hands over his eyes, started to scream, and fled the building, leaving his cell phone and his cane behind because he was so horrified by my Stormy Daniels’ striptease.

DOC. H:   Now, Mrs. Tomczyk, we’ve been over this before.  Knowing what you weigh at the beginning of our session helps me figure out what you need as a patient.  Wouldn’t you prefer a little embarrassment in order to get a more accurate diagnosis?

PETULANT ME:  Hell to the no!

DOC. H:  [Sigh] Let’s see what we have here.  Hum, all your numbers are elevated.  You were doing so well six months ago.  What happened?

WHINING ME:  What happened?  WHAT HAPPENED?  Donald Trump happened!  His mania is spreading all across the land, or at least it is giving “permission” for the crazies to come out of the sewers.  The Governor of Virginia has declared a state of emergency in Charlottesville because it is the one year anniversary since the murder of Heather Heyer by Confederate sympathizers and Neo-Nazi White Supremacists, and he doesn’t want a repeat of last year.  Virginia also has a man running to become one of its senators (Corey Stewart) who is a “Lost Cause” trumpeter who adulates the likes of Nathan Bedford Forrest and calls himself a rebel sounding the clarion call for the keeping of Confederate statues in place and unfurling the Confederate flag here, there, and everywhere because…you guessed it:  He says, “it’s my heritage.”  What the hell?  This dude grew up in Minnesota, for Pete’s sake!

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard about Northerners goose-stepping behind Nathan Bedford Forrest (slave trader, creator of the KKK, mass murderer of surrendered Negro troops, and the grand wizard of the KKK) and worshiping his image.  They have all been Trump supporters, of course. Their bottom line can only be in the name of White Supremacy.  What if this happens where I live?  I’d have to fight to expose this lie, of course.  I would not let my community wake up awash in Confederate flags while the African-Americans started feeling like second-class citizens in their own homes.  The fear of this keeps me awake at night.

I know you won’t believe me, but I don’t break my diet (well, not often), and I exercise like crazy.  Admittedly, I don’t get much sleep with all that is going on and all that I worry about.  But I can’t stand by and let the lies of our current President seep into the local soil where I live.  I can feel the zombie racism creeping toward me and mine.  I WILL FIGHT THIS EVIL WHERE IT SPROUTS.  I WILL ENCOURAGE OTHERS TO FIGHT IT.  I WILL NOT SURRENDER TO TURNING THE CLOCK “BACK TO THE CONFEDERACY!”

Confederate Monuments in Context David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star, Tucson, AZ

DOC. H:  All right, General Grant.  I hear you, and, believe it or not, as a White man, I get it.  I can’t tell you how many of my patients have come to me in tears because of what is happening in our country.  Grown White men sobbing because of the racism they see happening to people of color.  As one very lovely Italian man in his seventies told me, he thought we had won the war against racism long ago, and what he sees now is breaking his heart.  Not only do I understand what you’re saying, but I’m going to say something that will probably shock you.  Your numbers are elevated not because of how you eat or exercise but because of the inordinate stress you are suffering from events happening to you on a national and local level that seem beyond your control.  The stress is causing an increase of cortisol in your system, and it wouldn’t matter how little you ate or how much you exercised, you still wouldn’t lose weight.  And because you’re gaining weight as a result of the stress, all of your other numbers are increasing.

SUSPICIOUS ME:  Does that mean you’re going to up my meds?  You know those are fighting words to me, Doc. I refuse to become one of those old people on too many drugs who can’t remember their names or what day it is.  I have to take care of myself the natural way as long as I can through exercise and diet.

DOC. H:  No pills, I promise.  But here’s your new prescription:

#1.  You must fight this evil disguised in the Confederate flag! You must expose this evil! You must lead against this evil wherever it washes up on your shore of influence. You can’t fight everything everywhere, but you can fight what is within your jurisdiction, your writing arena, and your voting power.  It is for this day, this place, and this time that you were called to be.  Don’t shrink back from the fight. Write about it.  Protest it. Stand!  We need people like you, more than ever.

#2.  However, don’t let the fight kill you. You’ve got to get away from here—from the battlefield—if you hope to survive.

#3.  To keep you from having a heart attack or a stroke, I suggest the following:

  • Wage war where and when you can, and then pull back for a respite—on a daily basis
  • Watch or read the news, but only for an hour (bad news can wait); organize your battle plans, but only for a portion of the day, then…
  • Spend the rest of day in your garden, reading, engaging with your husband, spending time with good friends, enjoying your children, practicing your hobbies, thinking about all that is lovely in the world. Be fully present!  What’s that Bible verse I learned as a kid?  “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8).
  • Get 7-8 hours of sleep
  • Walk 10,000 steps a day—everyday! Give that Fitbit a run for its money.  Keep that body moving, Lady!

Statism

 INCREDULOUS ME:  What?  I think you’re gonna make me cry, Doc. A doctor who understands his patient.  A medical person who gets my struggles. A physician who doesn’t think I’m lying about not eating fried chicken and chocolate bon-bons? Who knew there was such a creature?  I could just kiss you!

DOC. H:  [Smiles] See you in three months.  Oh, and Mrs. Tomczyk—one more thing.  Above all else—be civil. Among the many things the man in the White House has destroyed is civility.  You can’t win this war without civility.  What’s that Michelle Obama maxim:  “When they go low, we go high!”

Incivility Bob Englehart Middletown CT

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart, Middletown, CT

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES ABOUT THE CONFEDERATE FLAG AND CIVILITY

“The Confederate Battle Flag was the emblem of Jim Crow defiance to the civil rights movement, of the Dixiecrat opposition to integration, and of the domestic terrorism of the Ku Klux Klan and the White Citizens’ Councils of our all too recent, all too awful history. White Christians ought to think about what that flag says to our African-American brothers and sisters in Christ, especially in the aftermath of yet another act of white supremacist terrorism against them.” Russell Moore, president of the SBC’s Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission who called for Christians in the South to forsake their affinity for the Confederate flag after the Charleston massacre of Black Christians

“I believe that our president has fostered a culture and climate that has allowed for what was there and has been there for years to bubble up. It has empowered people in a horrific way. Absolutely. I don’t think there’s any question about it.”—Rev. John Gray, pastor of Relentless Church in Greenville, S.C

“Civility is not not saying negative or harsh things. It is not the absence of critical analysis. It is the manner in which we are sharing this territorial freedom of political discussion. If our discourse is yelled and screamed and interrupted and patronized, that’s uncivil.”—Richard Dreyfuss

 “Our ultimate freedom is the right and power to decide how anybody or anything outside ourselves will affect us.”― Stephen R. Covey

Uncivil War John Darkow Columbia MO

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia, MO

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

REFERENCES

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/06/22/christian-confederate-slavery_n_7638676.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/corey-stewart-airbrushes-slavery-out-of-civil-war-history/2018/07/05/2ef44a06-7be5-11e8-80be-6d32e182a3bc_story.html?utm_term=.ee61505ad0c4

https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/right-turn/wp/2018/08/01/trumps-tampa-circus-proves-you-cant-reason-with-his-base/?utm_term=.98f368a79838

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on August 11, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , ,

SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME

Do you know what I discovered this past week?  A human being never gets over being taken from their mother, no matter how old they are, no matter what the circumstances, and no matter how it turns out in the end.  Even if it seems justifiable to the powers that be or it eventually saves the child’s life (as in my case), anybody with a viable soul must know that the hearts of children are much too vulnerable to be separated from their parents—especially after weeks of traveling as refugees.

Trump Family Reunification Plan Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission:  Dave Granlund, PoliticalCartoons.com

When this happened to me, my body snatchers and I spoke the same language and we never left the city of my birth, but that made little difference as to the scaring of my psyche.  In 1957 my baby sister and I were taken from my mother in the middle of the night by policemen with guns ablaze who had stormed through our apartment door.  Our mother was put in a strait jacket and thrown into an ambulance, and my sister and I were hustled into the back of a police car as I sobbed and screamed at the top of my lungs and my little sister collapsed into a catatonic state.  No one told us where we were going.  No one told us where they took our mother.  No one held us. No one comforted us. Everything was institutionalized and calculating—not mean, just matter-of-fact—just what is needed to crush an abandoned child’s heart.  My sobs and hysteria were so legendary the night our world finally fell apart after existing in years of mayhem and chaos that we still—to this day—cannot discuss that fateful night without tearing up.  My sister is 67 and I am 70 years old, and we never lived with my mother again.  Below is an excerpt of that night as seen through the eyes of a child just taken from her mother:

After the King of Night Court dubbed Pee-wee and me Wards of the State, we were taken to a temporary orphanage that the judge called “The Receiving Home.”  On the way to the orphanage I heard Miss Perkins [social worker] tell the policeman who accompanied us that even though it was past midnight, the matrons would have to open the kitchen because not to feed Pee-wee and me as soon as possible seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.  I remember wearily climbing a long flight of stone steps up to a brick building with large windows.  At the door, Pee-wee and I were met by a woman who was called the Night Matron.  After a brief whispered conversation between Miss Perkins and the Colored matron, we were led into the kitchen.  Pee-wee and I were so frightened and overwhelmed that we refused to let go of each other’s hand, so they picked us both up and set us down at a table without untangling our fingers.  My baby sister and I hadn’t eaten anything in days and nothing of any substance in months. Our clothes reeked of urine and excrement, and our bloated stomachs made us resemble children fresh off the boat from the remotest part of Africa.  At least that is what the Night Matron loudly whispered to the policeman…

“We’ll have to separate them eventually—might as well do it sooner than later.  The one in diapers will have to go to the nursery and sleep in a crib, even though she should be in the kindergarten dorm.”

“The nine year old needs to sleep in the teen ward in a bunk bed.”

“They both needs to be checked for lice and deloused befo’ they heads get near any beddin’.”

“First things first.  Feed these babies before they faints dead away from hunger.”

“Who been raisin’ these chilrin’—a pack of rats?”

Even though the adult consensus was that Pee-wee and I were absolutely filthy, a humane decision was quickly made that food was needed before a bath and delousing. The Night Matron had one of her helpers open up the cafeteria kitchen and heat up the leftovers from that night’s dinner. She gave Pee-wee and me a bowl of navy bean soup with globs of fat-back floating on the top, a cup of rice pudding with lumps the size of my toes, and two stale ginger snap cookies with a glass of buttermilk.  Pee-wee was too frightened to eat much of the food, but I gobbled up the meal as if it were my Last Supper. 

I can’t ever remember anything before or after the first meal in The Receiving Home tasting as great as that bean soup/ginger snap cookie combo.  Exactly at that black-hole moment, food became my drug of choice, and I would struggle with this addiction for the rest of my life.  After two servings of everything, I licked the soup bowl twice; and then I spoke for the first time since the invasion [of our home] by the police: “People, I gotta tell ya—you done outdid yo’selves!  This here is the best damn food I’ve ever eaten!”—EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK, “MONSTERS’ THROWDOWN” BY ELEANOR TOMCZYK

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Author and Baby Sister Few Months Before Taken Away from Their Mother

***

Knowing what I know about being separated from one’s mother as a child, I still can’t understand how Trump could approve this border control evil, and Sessions and Sarah Huckabee Sanders could sanction it by quoting scripture to justify that action.  It’s as if Jesus DIDN’T say:  “Suffer the little children to come unto me…” but instead said: “Snatch the little children and use them as manipulative tools any time you need to gain control of a political situation, for that is the way of the Lord your God.”

I don’t know what upsets me more—crying, fearful, abandoned children or Christianity being used in such a lying abusive way to harm children.  Doesn’t Trump have children and grandchildren of his own?  Did he ever put himself in the place of those parents fleeing their horrific countries to save their children, only to have them taken away—some of which may never see their kids again?  When I heard Jeff Sessions and Sarah Huckabee Sanders justifying immoral governing choices by citing scriptural approval, I had a revelation:  Maybe this evil was not Trump’s fault.  Maybe he was led astray by people who claim to follow Jesus but wouldn’t know God if he came floating down on a cloud in front of them.   Maybe if I let him know what really was at stake (his soul and the soul of America), he’d see the light and straighten up and fly right.  After all, White Evangelical preachers have told us that he’s a “baby Christian”—new to all the rules and laws of Christianity.  Maybe he just needed to be schooled.  It was worth a try.  I had to do something—anything—so I wrote the President an open letter.

Jesus Approves FB Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN

Cartoon used by permission:  Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune, MN

DEAR PRESIDENT TRUMP:

I am an American citizen (you know, one of the people you’re supposed to represent), and I wish to render a spiritual intervention on your behalf (before it is too late for the redemption of your soul) regarding your treatment of the border children.  You see, I am both a survivor of a traumatized childhood as well as an Evangelical Christian—thus giving me some moral authority on the subject of abused children and knowing what Jesus would do. 

I know that you have begrudgingly put a stop to separating children from their parents who are seeking asylum, and you signed an executive order making yourself out to be the hero in a Hitleresque tragedy which you, and you alone, started.

border crisis Kevin Siers The Charlotte Observer, NC

Cartoon used by permission:  Kevin Siers The Charlotte Observer, NC

But I ask you Mr. President, you the professed born-again Christian as confirmed by your personal pastor, Evangelist Paula White:  Where are the 2,000 plus other children?  Some as young as three months old, nine months old, four years old who have been taken as far away as Michigan, New York, and Washington State. Don’t know?  Not telling?  Couldn’t care less as your wife’s jacket seemed to convey when she made her obligatory visit to one of the kids’ shelters.  Somehow it’s hard to believe that about you.  You have kids.  You have grand-kids.  If I were to give you the benefit of the doubt, I would say you’ve been duped.

The only reason I think you have been bamboozled is I think Miller, Sessions, Sanders, and your Evangelical supporters have sold you a bill of goods.  I know they’ve told you all that crap about how you’re a modern day King Cyrus, and that God has anointed you to be President to bring about his will in America and on the Earth, blah, blah, blah, blah.  Except that under your “reign,” America’s soul is rotting—God’s will is not being done.  You see, none of the shit the White Evangelical preachers you hang with have told you the truth:  You’re actually in deep do-do with the Lord, Donald.  God is not pleased with you!

Pardon for the kids John Darkow Columbia Missourian

Cartoon used by permission:  John Darkow, Columbia, Missourian

You poor schmuck.  I bet you were under the impression that God likes ugly ways and an ugly heart?  Oh dear!  Of course, the scripture the US Attorney General Jeff Sessions invoked to justify the evil of your child abusive immigration policies probably made you feel real sanctimonious and very pleased with yourself:

“Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong.”Romans 13:1-5

Mr. President, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III didn’t tell you that Romans 13 was used to justify obedience to all sorts of evil in the past, and God squished the ruling authorities like a giant’s foot stomping on a pile of maggots when they enforced this scripture on innocent people (Google, Sherman’s march to the sea, and Hitler’s bunker demise).  The Southerners used it against the Abolitionists to justify slavery and German theologians used it to support Hitler regardless if their policies seemed harsh and ruthless.  (I know you don’t read, but when you can catch a break between Fox News and Alex Jones, have Melania read you the bio of the German theologian Otto Dibelius.  I’m sure he’s still preaching Romans 13 in the town square of Hell.)

Zero Tolerance: June 19, 2018

Cartoon used by permission:  Adam Zyglis, The Buffalo News, NY

I don’t know what drugs the Apostle Paul was taking the day he wrote that scripture, but something got lost in translation.  I do know it doesn’t apply to you, nor did it apply to Hitler or the American slave holders.  Mr. President, the scriptures that the false prophets who surround you should have impressed upon you are the ones about how God regards children, the poor, the wretched, the refugee, and the vulnerable.  Didn’t Sarah Huckabee Sanders (the daughter of a preacher-man) tell you about these scriptures that good leaders are charged to obey?

“Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”—Matthew 18: 4-5

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.”—Matthew 18:6

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”—Matthew 25:40

Sessions and Immigration Kids Bob Englehart Middletown CT

Cartoon used by permission:  Bob Englehart Middletown, CT

Ooops!  Mr. President, you’re in so much trouble with your Maker.

I hope you take this letter seriously because even if you don’t care about you own soul, I would encourage you to care about the soul of America.  Did your sycophantic Evangelical support ever tell you the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and why it was destroyed by God?  If they did, I bet they told you the lie that Sodom was destroyed because of all the homosexuals cavorting around.  Well, guess what?  They lied!   Sodom was destroyed because they turned their backs on the poor and the needy.  Check it out:

“‘Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen.”—Ezekiel 16:49-50

Oh dear, oh my…Mr. President, you know how you said you’ve never asked for forgiveness from God?  Now might be a good time to start.

Sincerely,

Eleanor Tomczyk

Blog Begin David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ

Cartoon used by permission:  David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star, Tucson, AZ

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INSPIRATIONAL QUOTE I’M HANGING ONTO DURING THESE TRYING TIMES

“When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds of despair, and when our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, let us remember that there is a creative force in the universe, working to pull down the gigantic mountains of evil, a power that is able to make a way out of no way and transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows.  Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”—Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

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WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOKS:  Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, The Fetus Chronicles on sale now at Amazon!

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST PODCAST INTERVIEW? http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 
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Posted by on June 26, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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