RSS

Tag Archives: Jesus

JESUS, GOD OF EASTER, HELP!

As you might imagine, given the events of this week, I am sitting Shiva with the rest of my liberal friends—or should I say, sitting Shiva with anybody who has a brain, a conscious, a heart, a soul, or eyes and ears.  According to Wikipedia, Shiva means “seven,” and “sitting Shiva” is described as: “the week-long mourning period in Judaism for first-degree relatives.”  In this case, my first-degree relatives are my country’s morality, constitution, and soul, and my religion’s core Truth.  I know I’m supposed to accept Barr’s assessment of the Mueller report and move on, but I just can’t.  In the words of George Conway (conservative lawyer and the husband of White House counselor Kellyanne Conway —talk about irony):

“TRUMP IS GUILTY—OF BEING UNFIT FOR OFFICE”

Cartoon used by permission: Milt Priggee, Oak Harbor, WA/Cagle Cartoons

The aftermath of Barr’s summary has been brutal against anyone who has opposed Trump—led by the mean-spirited bully Trump himself, as he takes his victory lap in the end zone.  Every time I hear him attacking someone who has uncovered his lies or stood up to his bullying, all I can do is pray that the God of Easter rescues us from this cretin—SOON.  Was it wrong to hope the Mueller Report would be an answer to that prayer of obvious corruption exposed?  And why did William Barr give us an interpretation of a potentially 300-plus page report rather than the report itself?  What is Barr hiding?  Instead, the White Right-Wing Christians who believe Trump was sent by God are hoarse from crowing Barr’s summation that God has protected their anointed one, and it makes me sick to my stomach—so sick, it sent me into intercessory prayer.  Below is my most recent prayer—prayed while sitting in sackcloth and ashes cataloged under the title: If Ever There was a God, Now is the Time to Show Up (Again).

Cartoon used by permission: Ed Wexler, PoliticalCartoons.com/Cagle Cartoons

DEAR GOD:

How are you?  The last time we spoke, I was praying for healing of a horrible respiratory disease, spring to arrive (sooner than later), and for the Mueller Report to be released, putting a stop to our current reign of terror. I’m very grateful that you completely healed my snot-generating, five-foot chubby-ass body, that spring has finally sprung revealing that not all my plants died over the winter (thank you very much), and the Mueller Report was finally released—kind of.

It looks like I needed to be a bit more specific in my prayers regarding the Mueller Report.  I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I thought we had an understanding that the report would be released in its entirety and reveal the complete corruption of Donald J. Trump in such a way that his followers would flee in horror—especially the ones who claim to be your followers.  But instead of them repenting in sackcloth and ashes for propping up this egregious sack of sin, they are joining in his revenge victory lap claiming the Bible verse (Psalm 105:15) on Trump’s behalf:  “Don’t touch my chosen leaders or harm my prophets! “Just the other day I came across this billboard that was once posted near St. Louis, Missouri from a bunch of your Trump-loving Christian followers equating him with you, Jesus:

A billboard along route I-70 near St. Louis, Missouri in Nov. 2018

(OPEN LETTER TO GOD, CONT.)

I don’t know how I missed this billboard when it first appeared, but my God, doesn’t this just burn your cookies?  Seems as if that alone would cause you to make a personal appearance just to set the record straight.  Now, how does the Bible verse John 1:14 read again? 

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

(The billboard was removed in 2018, but only after a great deal of hysteria from your “sane” peeps who rallied to confront this blasphemous stupidity.)

Insane, right?!

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

(OPEN LETTER TO GOD, CONT.)

With all due respect, knowing what you must know, what’s up with letting Trump slide by on the Mueller Report and practically getting away with murder?  You of all deities know that he’s guilty.  He’s like a giant toddler, and he won’t stop until he’s caught red-handed. He needs a giant ass-kicking by you since I am now convinced that Trump was right—he could shoot someone on 5th Avenue and not lose his supporters—especially his Christian supporters because they believe you sent Trump to save America.

Not that I need to give you any parenting advice, but do you recall the “Great Toddler Candy Heist of 87” that was perpetrated by one of my children (no need to name names—you know who Baby-girl is)?  Bear with me here.

As you recall, in the beginning, I tried to raise my children in a sugar-free environment. However, one of my kids came to Earth dreaming of lollipops. If upon her arrival the Devil had presented himself to her and said, “I’ll give you all the candy in the world in exchange for your soul, your sister’s soul, and both your parents’ souls,” she would have said, “In a hot baby-poop minute—where do I stamp my baby paw print?”   My child had ways of getting candy that I knew not of.  All I know is that the minute I turned my back on her (with the specific instructions: “Don’t give this child any candy!”) and returned to pick her up from babysitters, Sunday school providers, mother-in-law, or friends’ homes, I’d find candy wrappers stuffed in her diapers and witness the vestiges of a tummy ache all over my new blouses when I snuggled with her.  But no one could ever catch her actually procuring and eating the sweets.  No matter how many times I asked her if she’d eaten candy and where she’d gotten it from, she’d look me straight in the eyes and lie through her cute little four-year-old baby teeth.  (I think I might have even tossed out a prayer or two to you to help me catch that little barbarian in her lies at one time or another.)

Internet Meme

One day, I think you answered my prayers.  I took said candy thief and her sister with me to a very brief business meeting. I noticed as we passed by a table in the lobby by the receptionist’s desk that a rather large bowl of grape Jolly Ranchers was prominently displayed on our way to the elevators.  Both girls asked if they could have some, but I told them “no,” because I was afraid it would spoil their lunch.

After the meeting was over, I strapped the kids into their respective car seats and proceeded back home for lunch.  About five minutes into the drive, I smelled a pungent grapey odor coming from the back seat.  In fact, the odor was overwhelming, as if someone had flooded the car with Welch’s Grape Juice. It was apparent that one of the kids had stolen candy from the office candy dish.  As I whipped my head around like a cobra to seek out the culprit, I demanded to know who was sucking on a Jolly Rancher. My older daughter said, “Not I, said the cat.” When I turned to Baby-girl, she violently shook her head in denial but refused to open her mouth.  Had I not pulled over to the side of the road, I would not have caught her in the act.  But as I stopped the car and looked into the back seat at my girls, streams of purple ooze poured out of Baby-girl’s mouth.  Apparently, she had stolen as many Jolly Ranchers as her little fat fingers could handle and squirrelled them away in her jumpsuit pockets.  My toddler thief had stuffed not one, not two, not three, but at least four grape Jolly Ranchers into her tiny toddler mouth which couldn’t contain the saliva overflow. Caught dead to rights, even as I asked Baby-girl if she had Jolly Ranchers in her mouth, she continued to shake her head in fierce denial while purple saliva stormed from both sides of her mouth as if she were an overheated Saint Bernard and consequently slimed both her sister and me in purple ooze.

Lord, the point of this story is that I nipped that little rascal’s lyin’ and stealin’ in the bud by catching her in the act, and today she is a fine upstanding citizen. I thought you were probably proud of me for that bit of parenting stealth, if the truth be known.So here’s the word: you created Donald Trump.  Essentially, you’re his first parent.  I don’t mean to be impertinent, but why didn’t you let the Mueller Report expose him in all his ill-gotten slime?  Instead, he has gotten away with his crimes (again!) and has become an even bigger jerk than ever—claiming to be a martyr on the level of messiahhood, creating a revenge list, and tormenting the sick, the poor, and anybody that crosses him.


Cartoon used by permission: Milt Priggee, Oak Harbor, WA/Cagle Cartoons

(OPEN LETTER TO GOD, CONT.)

Lord Jesus, I know you know everything none of us know and in due time, all will be revealed, and we’ll all know the truth whether we want to accept it or not. It’s just that William Barr’s assessment was not the truth.  It may have “technically” helped Trump escape collusion, but he’s got the stain of being a horrible human being in every fiber of his being and he’s sliming us all with his purple-tainted sins of lying and corruption.   

Anyway, see you on Easter.  I could use some hope and proof that you’re in control of this mess. Just sayin’. In the meantime, I’ll keep praying (like a mantra) in the words of Leslie Jones’ recent universal tweet:  #LORDHELPUSPLEASE


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

***

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!

***

REFERENCE

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2019/03/27/michael-avenattis-downfall-would-be-great-thing-democrats/?utm_term=.b45c5010c518

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-conway-trump-is-guilty–of-being-unfit-for-office/2019/03/26/0b5f851e-4ffd-11e9-88a1-ed346f0ec94f_story.html?utm_term=.b59e095fe99e

https://www.cnn.com/2019/03/27/politics/cnn-poll-mueller-reaction-exoneration/index.html

https://www.riverfronttimes.com/newsblog/2018/11/05/we-fixed-that-appalling-trump-billboard-just-outside-st-louis-for-you

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.

 
10 Comments

Posted by on March 29, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

JESUS, COME BACK!

Do you know what I discovered this week?  Easter and April Fool’s Day fall on the same date this year.  What could possibly go wrong that hasn’t already gone wrong in these here United States?

Easter and April Fools John Darkow Inside Columbia

Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Inside, Columbia

I’m actually going to go to church on Easter.  I know!  Can you believe it?  Haven’t been in years.  I left my religion some time ago (actually, my religion left me!), and, although I never plan to permanently return to a religious corporate structure again, our messed up world—especially our messed up country—has me in need of communion and a corporate hug from God.

I need to confess that I’ve never understood why Jesus didn’t set the world straight the first time he came around.  If he wanted us to live a certain way—love thy neighbor and all that—why didn’t he just make it so? Isn’t he all powerful?  Hadn’t the world committed enough wars, mayhem, and terror BC to give him a gist of the character of mankind that would inhabit the world in AD?  We didn’t get any better once he left, we just got more efficient at torturing and killing each other.  Shouldn’t he have known that, being God and all?

Jesus Come Back Bob Englehart Middletown CT

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart, Middletown, CT

I don’t even know why I expect to be consoled by going to church on Easter because one of the reasons we have the President that we do and we’re in the mess that we are in is because Conservative Evangelical Christians sold their souls to the Devil in exchange for 30 coins of silver.

Easter Bunny: March 29, 2018

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

But I’ll remedy that and go to a Black Baptist church.  Not that they’ve got a corner on the righteousness market, but at least I won’t have to put up with any racism which I seemed to have run into head-long in my community recently while accidentally encountering a bunch of Born-Again/Fox News loving, Trump Luddites masquerading as a “history” club, who feel that it is okay to have their own “alternative facts” with an agenda to mold the world into their racist image (Hillary was right: some of them really are quite deplorable when you get up close and personal).  Besides, I’m keeping count, and the White Evangelical pastors who support Trump (laid hands on him and prayed for God’s anointing) far outnumber the Black Evangelicals 20 to 1.  I’m also keeping count of the White Evangelical preachers who are biting the dust for grabbing women by the “you know what” (it’s Holy week so I need to keep this clean) and they are dropping like flies (must read article referenced below*).  Unlike Trump, they don’t seem to be able to get away with their sexual sins as easily as he can.

Trump Knows Easter Bunny Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle GA

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

I think the straw that broke the camel’s back was when the likes of Laura Ingraham and the NRA smeared the Parkland School shooting survivors with lies about their character and mocked them on Twitter.  I was so angry that if I owned a gun I would have seriously considered using it against those Neanderthals.  Fortunately, I don’t own a gun for just that reason:  crazy mad can happen to the most mild-mannered person if rubbed the wrong way.

Anyway, I don’t like the state of my heart.  It has grown dark with fear, anger, and resentment.  (My mother always said, “Don’t wrestle with pigs; you’ll get dirty, but the pigs will love it!”)  So I’m getting up out of the slop and dragging my sorry-ass to church before it is too late for my soul.

run-bitch meme

Courtesy of askideas.com

Who knows:  maybe Jesus will show up and stay for good this time.

***

ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT) ABOUT RESURRECTION

I am discovering that there is no belief in a resurrection without wrestling with doubt.  Is Jesus real or isn’t he?  Did he die as some cosmic sacrificial lamb or didn’t he?  And on the third day, when the tomb door was rolled away, was he there or wasn’t he?  If he can do that, then why doesn’t he save us from ourselves?

And then I remember that he has.

Resurrection means hope and new beginnings, and like spring, when one is in the midst of winter, it is difficult to imagine that spring, hope, and new life will ever conquer the seemingly permanent deadliness of winter.  But I believe in the resurrection of Christ (help thou, my unbelief, oh God when I fail to believe), because it is my only hope for our poor sweet world and my sanity.

HAPPY EASTER AND HAPPY PESACH EVERYONE!

OUR WORLD SURE NEEDS THE GRACE OF BOTH.

Broken World Dave Granlund Minnesota

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Minnesota

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES ABOUT EASTER RESURRECTION

“The Resurrection miracle is nothing to you and me if it is only an event of eighteen centuries bygone. Unless we can live the immortal life – unless we can receive God to his own home in these hearts of ours – the texts are nothing to us unless these daily lives illustrate them.”—Edward Everett Hale

“It seems as if, for every dragon head that is lopped off, two more terrible appear. Seems so. But in truth, Life is gaining all the while. Brute force, such power as there seems to be in things, cannot stand against ideas which are eternal.”—Edward Everett Hale

All quotes courtesy of http://www.brainyquotes.com

I AM Dave Granlund Minnesota

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Minnesota

HE IS RISEN!  HE IS RISEN INDEED!

***

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOK:  “The Fetus Chronicles:  Podcasts From my Miseducated Self” is on sale now at Amazon!

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

 WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST INTERVIEW?  Check out the podcast interview with Leo Brown: http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

 REFERENCES

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/christians-offer-trump-cheap-grace/2018/03/27/9e7f5034-31c9-11e8-8bdd-cdb33a5eef83_story.html?utm_term=.4e89b81ca6a3

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2018/03/27/more-white-evangelicals-believe-stormy-daniels-and-that-could-have-some-long-term-implications/?utm_term=.69ee97c45fda

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2018/03/29/laura-ingraham-savaged-for-taunting-parkland-activist-over-college-rejections/?utm_term=.e8fbcb09421b

http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/kirbyjon-caldwell-famed-houston-megachurch-pastor-sold-millions-in-worthless-bonds-feds-charge/ar-AAvhlsf?li=BBnb7Kz&ocid=UE13DHP

*https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/03/30/in-an-age-of-trump-and-stormy-daniels-evangelical-leaders-face-sex-scandals-of-their-own/?utm_term=.9ddc4fa87a96 *

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.

 
7 Comments

Posted by on March 30, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , ,

COSMIC HOPE

The Christmas Story

Do you know what I discovered last week?  Black women saved Alabama’s soul and, ultimately, America’s with the trouncing of Roy Moore—that racist, pervert, accused pedophile, and abomination to the name of Christianity who tried to railroad his way into the U.S. Senate.  You’re welcome, America!  Even though I don’t live in Alabama, I am a Black woman, an Evangelical (until they do something that makes me throw up in my mouth), and a person who is used to seeing miracles.   I know it seems hard to believe, but not every Christian in America has sold his or her soul to the Devil Trump and his minions—just enough of them have done so to make the rest of us occasionally wonder if there really is a God.  So there you have it:  God showed up in Alabama through Black women, therefore, thus did hope re-surge in me for the times ahead.  All is not lost, my Peeps.

Evangelicals an Moore in Hell Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

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

As I meditated on that unexpected burst of hope that came out of the Doug Jones win in Alabama, I felt this explosion of happiness and joy in my soul which got me to thinking about Christmas.  (Of course, I was decorating the Christmas tree at the time, sipping champagne, and singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of my lungs, so thinking about Christmas might not have been a huge stretch of the imagination.)  Contrary to what Fox News, paranoid White Evangelicals, and Trump would have you believe, there is no war on Christmas (trust me).  Nobody cares if you say Merry Christmas or Happy Everything, just so long as you say it with love and good intentions.  We’ve been bombarded with Christmas this and that here, there, and everywhere since the day before Halloween.  Nobody in America has a problem saying “Merry Christmas”—just a problem living it.  Christmas has been “lost in translation” and left on the cutting room floor in our country for a very long time.

Star Wars FB Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

This week I started asking any and everybody what Christmas meant to them.  Some said “family,” too many said “expensive,” others said “stress,” many said “fun,” a half dozen said “I’m Jewish, or Muslim, or atheist,”  others said, “abandoned,” a few said “Santa with lots of toys on his sleigh” (granted, they were under ten years old), and several said a “colossal pain in the ass—I’ll be glad when it is over!” I could have sworn that at least one person said “bah, humbug,” but I’m not sure. My grandson said Christmas meant “going to see Star Wars” when he comes to visit in a few days and “finding the new Xbox One LEGO Marvel Super Heroes under the tree on Christmas morning—please Mema, pleeaaaaassse!”  No one who I asked about the meaning of Christmas said what Christmas truly is: freedom from oppression, hope, joy, peace, love, comfort for the marginalized, and healing for the abused.

Xmas attitude Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

I was slightly mortified by all the responses (including my grandson’s), if the truth be known.  I wondered: “How did Christmas get hi-jacked from the broken-hearted and the oppressed by the paranoid religious White people, inadequate Bible translations, and Wall Street.  Every year I try to figure out a way to translate the goodness of God into our holiday celebrations so my grandson can understand the true meaning of Christmas.  But every year something gets lost in translation in his young mind:  “So what’s a virgin? Are you trying to tell me, Jesus had two daddies AND a mommy?  What’s a frankincense and myrrh—is that like bubble bath and Chuck’s flea soap?”

In a world where nine-year-olds are committing suicide because of bullying, a child dies of hunger every seven seconds, and refugees and asylum-seekers have topped 65 million according to the UN, my grandson is going to need more from the Christmas story then gazing at a White baby Jesus in a manger once a year (Jesus was a Jew, so what’s up with the blond, blue-eyed savior?) and militantly saying “Merry Christmas” simply to prove a point. As a young Black man, he’s going to need lots of hope and courage to get through this life!  So I decided to rewrite the Christmas story in a way he would understand and leave the frankincense and myrrh to the Bible literalists.

Frankenstein

Courtesy of Christian Funny Pictures

 

THE CHRISTMAS STORY AS TOLD BY MEMA TO BABY BOY

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a very mean king by the name of Caesar Augustus ruled over all the world—or as much as he could capture under Roman rule.  Caesar Augustus thought that he was all that and a bag of chips—kind of like Donald Trump.  In fact, CA thought he was God—much like Donald Trump. Actually, he was awful and very cruel. I’m told that he once said:  “I could run over a bunch of Jews with my chariot in the middle of Jerusalem and my Roman supporters would not care.  I truly am king of the world.”  If you were a Roman citizen and rich, life was pretty awesome, but if you were a Jew, a non-Roman, or poor, life was the pits.  People cried all of the time because they were not free to live their lives as they wished and they didn’t have enough money and food to take care of their families. Many people were slaves to the Romans. It had been this way for a very, very long time.  So much so that it caught God’s attention.

GOD:  Gabriel, my angel, what is going on in the Earth I’ve created?  In all the years since I first breathed life into humans, I’ve never heard such a hue and cry. 

GABE:  Pardon me, my Lord, but I beg to differ.  We had an issue with that bad Pharaoh a while back, remember?  Had to raise up an outstanding guy named Moses, part the Red Sea, and escape with hundreds of people into the desert for about forty years.  It seems as if this time, it’s a Roman, not an Egyptian causing all the mayhem.

GOD:  Oh, yes!  I remember.  What is it with these humans?  There is always some nutty leader trying to impersonate me but with the character of the Devil.  You give them a little bit of talent, a few smarts, and it all goes to their heads.  They start lording it over each other, abusing people, treating each other like pond scum.  Oy vez mir!  I’m telling you Gabe, humans are getting on my every last nerve.  They better not make me come down there, or they will have Hell to pay.

GABE:  Eureka, my Lord!  Maybe that’s exactly what you should do.  You made the blueprint of why humans were created, and not one group of them has ever done the right thing by each other since their inception.  They think they know you, but they don’t have a clue as to your character.  What if you went down to Earth and hung out with them for a few years—showed them how to treat each other and the Earth you gave them?

Save us from ourselves Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com

GOD:  Hum… that’s not a bad idea. Except, I’m made up of all sorts of energy and matter.  If I interact with them face-to-face, they’ll implode.  It will be as if they flew to close to the sun.  That would defeat my purpose.

GABE:  Not if you cloaked a portion of yourself (your son) in the costume of a human.  Since there are three parts of you (Father, Son, and the feminine Holy Spirit), surely you could spare one part of you for a while.  I propose that you do a real sci-fi thing: slip into the Earth’s atmosphere as a fetus, get yourself born, hang out for as long as you can take it (maybe 33 years or so), show them how to live, and find some way to get ejected off the Earth and back into the heavens.   In fact, I’m thinking of a pretty powerful way you can exit stage left that would really complete the circle of sacrificial love that you have for them.  It would involve some nails and wood, and be rather painful in your human form.  But you could handle it. 

GOD:  I do love them so.  Can’t help myself.  When they’re good, they’re very good, but when they are bad… eiy, yi, yi!  Okay, find me a vessel through which to make my entrance.

GABE:  Already on it.  Her name’s Mary.  Just got engaged to a real stand up dude by the name of Joseph.  He’s mature enough to be your earthly father once he gets over the shock that his future wife is the temporary shuttle for the son of God.

GOD:  Cool.  We’ll need to alert a few of my peeps to let them know I’m in their midst since I’ll be a baby with no language skills.  Get the ad department to draft an announcement.  Send it out to the shepherds since they are usually the only ones hanging out at night under the stars.  They’ll spread the word. 

GABE:  Got it.  I think I’ll lead the angels in the proclamation myself, Sir.  How’s this:

 “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord…  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth, peace…” 

GOD:  Awesome!  Excellent Gabriel.  The hope just radiates from that proclamation makes me tingle all over.  Do you think the shepherds will believe it?

News of Jesus Birth Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

GABE:  It’s worth a try.  If you don’t go down soon they will devour each other and there will be no humans left in a millennium or two.  They are not getting better—they’re getting worse.

GOD:  This is so exciting!  I have so much to show them about what it really means to be human.  Do they even realize that I created them in my likeness?  Do they understand that that likeness is the personification of love and joy?  I want to tell them that murder, hatred, theft, and cruelty are not why they were created.  They need to know that every soul has great worth—no matter who they are or where they were born.  I’ve got to teach them how to love one other, because my law is love, and my gospel is peace.  Come on Gabe, let’s pull together some genes, some DNA, and some chromosomes and get this baby entry pod cookin’!  People of Earth, hope is on its way!  From this day forward, all oppression shall cease!

Light of Christ Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

 

ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT) ON THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

I am discovering that humans have always been in peril from other humans since the beginning of man. I am also discovering that my hope is not in man, in political parties, or even in myself.  My hope is that the true character of God will triumph in the Earth as well as in my own heart.  No evil lasts forever and no true love will ever die, and that is why Jesus came to Earth.  God’s love and hope is what Christmas means to me.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HANUKKAH, HAPPY HOLIDAYS, AND PEACE AND GOODWILL TO ALL!

Love, Eleanor

 

 

Hope Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

 

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES ABOUT HOPE

 “Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”—Desmond Tutu

 “The message of Jesus is summed up partly in the Sermon on the Mount, and partly when he begins his ministry and quotes the passage from Isaiah: ‘I have come to set free the prisoners and restore sight to the blind.’ And certainly, his mission is also to bring hope. It was to heal people, to befriend the outcast.”—Dan Wakefield

“For Jesus, there are no countries to be conquered, no ideologies to be imposed, no people to be dominated. There are only children, women and men to be loved.”—Henri Nouwen

***

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOK:  “The Fetus Chronicles:  Podcasts From my Miseducated Self” is on sale now at Amazon!

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

WANT TO HEAR THE AUTHOR’S LATEST INTERVIEW?  Check out the podcast interview with Leo Brown: http://breadboxmedia.podbean.com/e/what-if-it-is-true-can-you-find-faith-in-darkness/

Christ is born Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

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 December 19, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

THE SCANDAL OF EVIL

Do you know what I discovered this week? I’ve been so engrossed in finishing my second book (Fleeing Oz) that Easter week snuck up on me, and the rest of life has passed me by as if it were on a bullet train from Tokyo to Hiroshima. My apologies to all my blogger friends for going AWOL these past several weeks and not keeping up with your posts. But you’re all writers, and you know (and hopefully understand) what it is like to have to meet a deadline for a book that has taken a year to come to fruition—not to mention trying to sell a house, buy another house, and move to another town in the midst of getting older by the minute. (“Become a writer when you retire,” they said; “It will be fun,” they said. Auuuggghhh!)  Anyway, my second book is finished, thank God, and it will launch in May. Glory hallelujah! Maybe, I will get to have sex with my husband again, get to feel the sun on my face, and work on a garden at the new house sometime soon. Shoot, maybe I’ll get to eat something besides popcorn, boiled eggs, pumpkin seeds, and coffee—lots and lots of coffee.

Writing Meme courtesy of ermiliablog dot wordpress

Writing meme courtesy of www.ermiliablog.wordpress.com

Fleeing Oz is a humorous memoir based on my diaries about spending 40 years in the predominantly White, right-wing stream of the Christian church and my subsequent divorce from it. (Yes, Virginia, there is such an anomaly as a Black Christian, Conservative, Right-wing Republican! Fox News doesn’t make this shit up, and Dr. Ben Carson, Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, and that nasty-ass Herman Cain aren’t the only ones.) As I relived this journey through the eyes of my multitudinous journal entries, I was appalled at all the evil I stupidly embraced under the banner of “following Jesus” (1 ½ cults, 1 soulless mega-church, 2 heartless, wannabe mega-churches, and 9 or more “shoot-me-now-because-I’m-so-bored, I’d-rather-be-doing-shots-with-the-devil-than-sit-through-one-more-sermon-from-an-ignorant-arrogant-clueless-preacher-like-you”).

Part of the research I read to write Fleeing Oz was a book entitled People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil by M. Scott Peck. As I tried to sort out in my book why I participated in some of the heinous things I did (why most people do what they do in the name of religion), I realized I had more questions than answers about God and “the way things are on this planet.”

There are three chimes which form a media call-to-attention that rattle me to my core every morning: “C,” the second note “A” (a major 6 up) and “F” (a major 3rd down)—sol, la, do (for my musician readers). They tonally spell NBC: Breaking News! Every time I hear those intervals followed by the words “breaking news,” my stomach seizes up. Each new three-tone chime from NBC News introduces a new level of evil. Just when I decide that I’ve figured out a way to sidestep the terror of ISIS, or find a neighborhood where there are no robbers, rapists, and racists, or cut out traveling anywhere near the continent of Africa or the country of North Korea, the tones “C-A-F” confront me with the possibility of a new evil that I never once thought about until “Breaking News.”

NBC: Breaking News! Pilot willfully crashes commercial plane into the French Alps, killing all 150 on board. He was not a terrorist (whew!), but he was a tad bit depressed!

(I may truly never have the courage to fly again without a psychiatrist at my side and a bag full of anti-psychotic drugs in my purse. When I get on a plane, I will demand to greet the pilots and look them in their eyes. If their eyes shift from my scrutinizing gaze for even a nano-second, I am hitting the exit door that activates the emergency chute, and I am out of there faster than you can say “Happy Easter”!)

Depressed Pilot  Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star Tribune

I give up! I can’t outrun, outsmart, or outmaneuver evil. It always seems to be two steps ahead of me, and the sheer cacophony of the rattling of the death sabers yanks me to my knees. Will I be next? Will someone I love be fed into the gaping jaws of evil? Why do bad things happen to good people? Will there ever be peace on Earth? Where is God in the mix of all this evil? All these questions lead me to Easter because Easter, in some weird way, gives me hope and the assurance that something bigger than myself and beyond this Earth is in control. I know that God does not cause evil. People have the power of freewill to choose to do evil things. Because the god that I call Jesus suffered evil, was murdered, buried, and rose again, I have hope that I too shall rise in courage, in grace, in joy—in eternal life—in response to any evil that might come my way.  But I can’t say that I’m not scandalized by it all. I have to constantly fall to my knees and pray for understanding and grace. I have to constantly forgive God for not putting a stop to it all in his infinite power as I try not to be scandalized by his seemingly inaction. I have to trust that something good will come from it all.

Writing Fleeing Oz has made me see how much evil is within me—how often I failed to defend, protect, and support those in need of my help. I need to understand Easter on a deeper level if I am to survive myself and others. So this Easter I shall meditate on the writings of the Episcopal priest, David Henson, who has a better handle on Easter than any theologian I’ve ever read. He gives me hope!

A HOMILY FOR EASTER

by David R. Henson

Goddamn evil

Goddamn abuse

Goddamn injustice, slavery and rape.

Goddamn racism

Goddamn war

Goddamn that strange fruit of bigotry and hate

Goddamn suffering

Goddamn hunger

Goddamn indifference, apathy and waste

Goddamn noose

Goddamn death

Goddamn despair, depression, the wait

Goddamn Good Friday

And a Goddamn cross

Goddamned it all,

Goddamned it too late

Yet we live like it’s Easter

Like God has been raised

We live like it’s light,

In spite of the dark.

We live like there’s joy

With spite in our hearts

For all that remain of our Goddamned days

These Goddamned

Good Fridays.

Read more: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidhenson/2012/04/easter-preaching-a-poem-that-will-get-your-fired/#ixzz3VzRInaWx

Christ_of_Saint_John_of_the_Cross

Christ of Saint John of the Cross by Salvador Dalí, 1951

EASTER QUOTES

“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.”—Mahatma Gandhi

“The great gift of Easter is hope – Christian hope which makes us have that confidence in God, in his ultimate triumph, and in his goodness and love, which nothing can shake.”—Basil Hume

*“But, when I look at the world, the suffering of consciousness, the evil that infects, the despair of life, the hunger that distends bellies, the enslavement of the poor to the rich, and the rich to riches . . . when I look myself, the way I am made, my own experiences of despair and hopelessness . . . I see the kind of brokenness that begs for forgiveness, but of a wholly different kind than the prayers we say while pounding our chests. At some point, we have to learn to forgive God.”—David Henson

“Let every man and woman count himself immortal. Let him catch the revelation of Jesus in his resurrection. Let him say not merely, ‘Christ is risen,’ but ‘I shall rise.’”—Phillips Brooks

Death Overcome by Easter Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

HAVE A GLORIOUS EASTER! Used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

QUOTES COURTESY OF www.brainyquote.com

**

WANT TO READ THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOK (Monsters’ Throwdown)? BUY NOW AT AMAZON!

Fleeing Oz (Book 2 in the Discovery Series) coming in May!

LIKE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR? CHECK OUT www.eleanortomczyk.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.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on March 31, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

The Genuine Article

Do you know what I’ve discovered about Easter? 90 million chocolate bunnies and 16 BILLION jelly beans are said to be consumed during a season that follows 40 days of abstaining for the Christian Lent—usually from sweets. Easter hasn’t even arrived yet, and I’ve consumed at least two-million jelly beans, but the good news is that I gave up chocolate bunnies for Lent since I’m a chocoholic. I made six giant Easter baskets for family and friends, and every time I threw in a handful of jelly beans into a basket I snarfed down two handfuls of beans with a swig of Diet Coke (one must maintain one’s diet, now mustn’t one?), but I abstained from the chocolate bunnies. Sometime after the consumption of 500,000 jelly beans, I fell into a sugar coma and would have stayed passed out for days had not a life-sized bunny knocked on my front door and, in my foggy-state-of-mind, asked me to take a bite out of his ass.

Chocolate Bunny By Josef Türk Jun via Wikimedia Commons

Chocolate Bunny By Josef Türk Jun via Wikimedia Commons

ME: I beg your pardon? Who are you? Are you a zombie in a bunny disguise?

E. BUNNY: Ah, nooooo. Do I look like a zombie? I’m Mr. Chocolate-E-Bunny.

ME: I can see you’re a bunny—albeit a six-foot-tall bunny—and a chocolate one at that, but you could be hiding all manner of characteristics under that chocolate undercoating. Take me for instance [slightly slurred speech from sugar intoxication], I’m a human female, chocolate in color, and perfectly normal at first glance, but I could be your worst nightmare if you mess with me. I’m also a chocolate lover, baby, so come on in and make yourself at home. Unfortunately, I can’t fulfill your request now—I don’t do chocolate Easter Bunnies anymore. I gave you up for Lent.

E. BUNNY: [E. Bunny pushes his way into my foyer and almost knocks me over in the process] It says here in my manifest that you gave up all sweets for Lent, but up until a few minutes ago you were passed out from a jelly bean overdose. Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?

ME: Hey, hey, hey, hey, don’t you judge me. There is only one person who can judge me. Life is hard out here for a chocolate lover. And how do you know my business? Besides, I’m not the one who has been trying to steal the show from the real author of Easter for years. You and your comrades have reduced a very holy holiday into a commercial carnage of sugar crap and colored-boiled egg rolls. How many Americans even know what Easter is about anymore? And what the fuck did you do with your gold foil wrap? Your nakedness is freaking me out here!  I’m only five-feet tall, and even though you’re not anatomically correct, I don’t need to be looking at all that that isn’t supposed to be there on a damn chocolate bunny.

Easter Forgotten Peter Broelman Australia

Used by permission: Peter Broelman, Australia

E. BUNNY: I left my gold-foil wrap outside. I thought I’d be less imposing if I came through the door chocolate naked and ready for consumption.

ME: No, the fact that you’re a six-foot-tall chocolate bunny and talking to me is freaky—the gold foil means nothing. Now get out! I’ll not lose what little grip I have on my Lenten sacrifice and my sanity.

E. BUNNY: What do you care? It says here on my manifest that you are no longer a Christian; you’re a NONE (“none of the above” when asked “what religion are you?” on surveys), as well as a SBNR (“Spiritual but Not Religious”). Ain’t you a bit old to be losing your religion?

ME: Completely misrepresented. If you read my book Monsters’ Throwdown (have you read my book?) you’d know all about my thrilling God encounter. Where did you get that erroneous misinformation about me not being a Christian, by the way? I am a Christian BUT NOT ONE OF THOSE CHRISTIANS that are doing everything in their power to win the stupid medal, spew hatred, undergird white supremacy, sow division, worship greed as a divine right, spread ignorance, foster abuse, churn up intolerance, and snuff out belief in science. Did you read how a group of mega-church preachers have predicted the end of the world (Red Moon Rapture) during the appearances of the blood moons (scientists call this lunar eclipse a tetrad) this year or the next? Well, one blood-moon experience has passed, and we’re still here. (God, I despise stupid). At the same time, I believe in Jesus, his birth, sacrificial death, and powerful resurrection. Science is awesome (I’m really feeling the new Cosmos series, by the way), but the “knowing” by faith that I am loved by an entity who is outside of time and space levels the playing field for this little chubby-ass, black girl from the ghetto and makes me less frightened as to the nefarious choices of those who would choose to do me harm on this scary blue planet.

Gospel in a word is love funnypicturesimages dot com

Courtesy of funnypicturesimages.com

E. BUNNY: Cute—although I’m agnostic. Being edible, I have to keep my options open. Aren’t you a little old for clip art religion?

ME: Aren’t you a bit perverse to ask some strange woman to take a bite out of your ass? You’ve barged into my house and now you think you can throw shade on my beliefs? Okay, you’re goin’ down, you mouthy, fat-ass Bunny!

AT THIS POINT, THE SUGAR INTOXICATED FIVE-FOOT “NONE” BEGAN TO DO A THROWDOWN WITH THE SIX-FOOT NAKED CHOCOLATE BUNNY. JELLY BEANS WERE FLYING EVERY WHICH WAY BUT SUNDAY, AND BITS OF CHOCOLATE BUNNY WERE FLUNG TO THE CEILING. IT WAS ANYONE’S GUESS AS TO WHO THE VICTOR WOULD BE.

E. BUNNY: Stop, stop! I don’t want to fight over this. My request is strictly business, I promise. I won’t get my commission unless I become part of an Easter display. Problem is that I am much too big for an Easter basket, and everyone who I’ve come in contact with this week has given up chocolate for Lent. I’d given up all hope of winning the Easter challenge until my manager told me to stop by your house. He says you’re known throughout the land as being a chocolate-bunny slut. I’m begging you, just take a couple of chomps out of my ass to show that I am Easter worthy, and I’ll leave you be.

ME: [I bounced around the floor like Sugar Ray Leonard with fists raised in a defensive position—not letting down my guard for one minute.] Something about you is off, bunny, but I can’t put my finger on it. Everybody who is anybody knows that you don’t feast on a chocolate bunny from the ass up—it’s always from the ears down. And another thing, you’ve giving off the appearance of being a solid bunny, but methinks you sound a little bit hollow inside. For the sake of science, let me take a bite out of one OR BOTH of those ears. I’ll know instantly if you’re for real or a poser. [I flew through the air and flung myself against his body and snapped off both his chocolate bunny’s ears to discover what I suspected all along.]

Easter Over Commercialized Easter Jeff Parker Florida Today

Used by permission: Jeff Parker, Florida Today

E. BUNNY: Ouch! WTF! Why did you do that? Now I can’t hear a thing.

ME: Serves you right, nasty-ass bunny busting into my house when I’m all weak and vulnerable and offering up your tasty ass.   Um, even though you’re hollow, your ears are delicious and the left side of your face is scrumptious. I WANT MORE! [I took a flying leap and lunged upward toward the back of the chocolate bunny’s head.] Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. You are delicious, bunny baby! Oh, but what about my Lenten oath? Let’s see—Lent ends on April 17th. Today is April 16th. I made it almost to the mark—that should count for something in the religion department. [At this point I lunged for the chocolate bunny’s throat with zombie teeth bared and chocolate blood gushing out of the sides of my mouth with the ferocity of a lioness feeding on an antelope.]

E. BUNNY: That’s called sin ration_________gurgle. . .

ME: What did you say, giant bunny—something about sin rationalization? [Chomp, chomp . . .] Well, good thing I get forgiveness of my sins through Christ, because I plan to eat all six feet of your chocolate ass now and ask forgiveness later! Ha—I bet you didn’t see that one comin’!

Easter Meme FB

I am discovering that I am grateful to have experienced the presence of God in my life. All that is good and lovely, I owe to the one I call Jesus; all that was harsh and degrading I owe to the lack of love from mankind.  I am also discovering that no matter how loud the right-wing religious or the extreme atheists shout about God vs. science—both are probably wrong because Easter is the elasticity between the two. Science explains how, what, and when life began for us all (thanks Brian McLaren), but God is outside of time and space and therefore cannot be measured or categorized (thanks Alan Lightman) by science—God explains the who and whythe meaning of life.  I could be wrong (that is the nature of faith), but the fact that God burst onto the scene to show us how to live and treat each other over 2,000 years ago (which we seem to be severely ignoring) simply underscores how significant his life and death are to all mankind. I believe that in the end love will triumph over all our differences, and all death has been conquered by the resurrection of Christ. Thank God for Easter.

Happy Easter to one and all!

P.S. No chocolate bunnies were actually harmed in this sugar dream and no Lenten vows were broken.

Easter Meanig Milt Priggee www dot cagle dot com FB

Used by permission: Milt Priggee http://www.cagle.com

“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.”Mahatma Gandhi

“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”Albert Einstein

“Jesus’s resurrection is the beginning of God’s new project not to snatch people away from earth to heaven but to colonize earth with the life of heaven. That, after all, is what the Lord’s Prayer is about.” ― N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church

website

LOOKING FOR AN EXCELLENT READ? CHECK OUT MY WEBSITE: www.eleanortomczyk.com

REFERENCES

http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/religion/blood-moon-sets-off-apocalyptic-debate-among-some-christians/2014/04/15/00b76502-c4be-11e3-9ee7-02c1e10a03f0_story.html

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/04/14/blood-moon-lunar-eclipse-john-hagee-end-of-world/7694331/

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 April 17, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

Dalai Mama: Speaking Truth to Stupidity

Times Square|image by Eleanor Tomczyk 2012

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  The first third of my life I was just trying to survive, the middle of my life I was simply trying to “get along” and almost lost my soul, and now that I’m entering the final phase of my life, I plan to kick some ass on behalf of truth and on behalf of those who don’t have a voice.

I went to New York City recently and returned with a new moniker:  Dalai Mama.  I was baptized with that name by a young man who is on his way to becoming my future son-in-law and I like it!  (TRANSLATION:  Dalai Mama—she tells you the searing truth whether you want to hear it or not.)  It is from that perspective and newly-crowned status that I rolled into New York City as the conductor announced, “Welcome to Gotham City!” (I did not need that—NYC is scary enough without that added patina.)  Although I used to live in the city over forty years ago, much has changed.  If the Frank Sinatra song is true, I’m probably not going to make it anywhere, because I sure couldn’t make it there. In truth, NYC kicked my ass, and I have a love/hate relationship with it.  I go back to soak up the latest gifts to the theater gods as I fantasize what might have been and, more recently, I go because it is the home of my grandson.

As I maneuvered my way through the teeming crowds in Times Square around the Naked Cowboy who is apparently suing the Naked Indian for trademark infringement (“I’ve been here 365 days, every day, for 13 years and change; he’s only been here 16 days and missed two already!”), I resisted the urge to pinch his buns (they really are tempting and I’m not that old!) as I learned that he has his own website and would gladly remarry WW and me in a ceremony starting at the low, low price of $499 because he is apparently an ordained minister.  (I swear to God—only in New York City!)

Naked Cowboy/Times Square|image from articles.nydailynews.com

Naked Indian/Times Square|image from laughingsquid.com

That night as I watched the Broadway musical, Newsies, I couldn’t help but reflect on the true story (the Newsboys Strike of 1899) that Disney is making a freakin’ fortune tap-dancing its way all the way to the bank while they “cutesefied” the human misery of the poor of yesteryear.   The titans of industry (Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst) were defeated in a two-week strike by thousands of homeless children as they campaigned to earn a penny or two more for delivering the papers owned and produced by the rich.  As I watched the show, I wondered about the fact that the poor and disenfranchised are ever with us, while the rich and powerful either try to ignore them or exploit them.  In reality, the poor are just not singing and dancing about it.

Real Newsies of the 1900’s/probably Albany, NY|image from noodletools.com

“In 1875 a popular writer of the period wrote, ‘There are 10,000 children living on the streets of New York….The newsboys constitute an important division of this army of homeless children. You see them everywhere…. They rend the air and deafen you with their shrill cries. They surround you on the sidewalk and almost force you to buy their papers. They are ragged and dirty. Some have no coats, no shoes, and no hat.’ However, the common ill-treatment of the newsboys was not a major concern of society.”—Wikipedia

****

Strolling to my hotel after the Broadway show while trying not to vomit from the proverbial sewer smell in Times Square (you can clean up Times Square a thousand times a day, but the age-old sewers will always smell the same—they smelled forty-two years ago and they smell even worse today—somehow that must be a metaphor about life), I wondered how my grandson would fare growing up in this city.  Would he make it?  Would he lose his soul to it?   Or was he destined to become one of the leaders of it?  In a city where the top 20% earn forty times what the bottom 20% earn, if my grandson were to be a future leader in Gotham City, contrary to current Repub belief (“cough—Romney’s take on the 47%”), he wouldn’t need to grow up to be a Wall Street wheeler dealer or a CEO powerbroker, he’d need to have a strong moral compass that gave him a heart for the poor and
disenfranchised, because they will always be with us along with the Gotham “makers” who will bow down to the god of mammon and sacrifice the “victims” to the altars  of industry.  (Come to think of it, we could use a Republican candidate for president with that moral compass.  Maybe I’ll send Mittens a note on my new stationery, “Speaking Truth to Stupidity” and sign it “Dalai Mama.”  Think he’ll read it?)

I am discovering that some people don’t have a clue what it is like to live as the lower part of the 47%:

Ann Romney Meme|Image from underthebunkermountain.com

A TRAIN OF QUOTES TO HELP BRING TRUTH TO STUPIDITY

Ann Romney:  “We got married and moved into a basement apartment. We walked to class together, shared the housekeeping, and ate a lot of pasta and tuna fish. Our desk was a door propped up on sawhorses. Our dining room table was a fold-down ironing board in the kitchen. Those were very special days.”—Anne Romney (daughter of a wealthy industrialist married to Mitt Romney, son of an automobile company CEO and governor of Michigan illustrating how she used to be “poor.”)

Mitt Romney: “. . . there are 47 percent . . . who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it. That’s an entitlement.”—Mitt Romney who wants to be our next president but only of the 53%.

Eleanor Tomczyk: “How about a perspective buster, Ann?  At eight years old, my five-year-old sister and I ate every other day, if we managed to pull enough dandelion weeds and raid enough garbage cans of chicken bones and partially eaten food for our mother to heat up on a hot plate located on the board covering the bathtub which substituted as a kitchen counter.  By the time The Cleve’s Family and Social Services rescued my sister and me, our stomachs were the size of basketballs from the distention of malnutrition and worms.   Queen ANNtoinette, I’ll trump ‘your poor’ with ‘my poor’ any time of the day.” (NOTE HISTORICAL REFERENCE POINT:  This was 1954—Ten years before the Food Stamp Act of 1964 was passed to ensure the poor would not starve to death in the richest country in the world.)

Dalai Mama:  (Speaking truth to stupidity):  “My Lady and my Lord, Jesus said (remember him—the Jesus in the ‘Latter Day Saints’ marque?), ‘. . . I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me . . . whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’”

Stephen Colbert—American political satirist, writer, comedian, television host, and actor

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.

 
25 Comments

Posted by on September 22, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

The Devil Made Me Do It!

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  Pay-back is a bitch—especially when it is from your husband!  Say for instance, if on a three-day, rainy weekend, you get a little carried away and coerce your man into “cuddling and relaxing” with you while watching a celluloid marathon of “Steel Magnolias,” “Beaches,” and “The Notebook,” you may end up having an issue.  On top of the estrogen-soaked weekend, if you end up drinking three times the amount of merlot that you should, and hysterically sobbing into your Hubbie’s arms, you better know that eventually, any man, but especially “White and Wonderful (WW),” is going to extract a heavy toll for being inundated with that many chicks’ flicks and its aftermath.  You won’t know when or how or where you’ll be required to pay up—you’ll just know that it will cost you dearly, and your man of 34 years will demand that for every one “chicks’-flick tearjerker” he had to suffer through, two “getting-kicked-in-the-man-marbles” movies will be required as pay-back.

“The Notebook” (old and young Allie and Noah)||source: jackiefelger.blogspot.com||Google Image

“When Allie questions Noah about when she won’t be able to remember anything anymore, he reassures her that he will never leave her. She then asks him if he thinks their love for each other is strong enough to ‘take them away together.’ He states that he thinks their love could do anything. After telling each other that they love one another, they both go to sleep in Allie’s bed. The next morning, a nurse finds them in bed together, having both died in each other’s arms.”— (The Notebook) Wikipedia

As I collapsed into WW’s arms (as I do every time I see The Notebook), sobbing about the sacrificial love of Allie and Noah being “just like our love, Honey”—as rivers of snot dripped unapologetically down my husband’s arm while he comforted me—I heard him mutter a resolution under his breath that sent chills down my spine.   “Okay, I’ve had it up to here with vagina dialogues.  I know I’m a Renaissance man, but there’s only so much even I can take.   We’re going to the movies next weekend, and I get to choose what we see.  We’ll start with the Avengers in the IMAX Theater in 3-D with 12,000 watts of sound!  When we’re finished, we’ll grab some quick sustenance from Five Guys (two bacon cheeseburgers with everything and a large bag of greasy fries) and then back to the movie theater to see Battleship!  Yes siree, you betcha—a day of testosterone without an estrogen tear in sight.  And while I’m on a roll, I may pop in the latest Mission Impossible DVD when we get back home to cap off the day in an action-packed surround-sound coma.  Julia, Bette, and Nicholas, I am alpha male—hear me roar!”

******

I can’t say I remembered much of The Avengers except for the excellent “eye candy” of all those amazing male bodies, because the sensory overload made me so incredibly dizzy, I got sick to my stomach.  I am one of the few people in the world who just doesn’t get the joke about 3-D.  At one point, I had to doze off just to survive it all, and that is when art began to imitate life and The Avengers movie morphed into a courtroom scene with the Devil as the plaintiff and me as the judge.

The Avengers Movie Poster||produced by Marvel Studios and distributed by Walt Disney Pictures||Wikipedia Image

BAILIFF:  All rise. Hear ye, hear ye, the Celestial Court for the District of Mankind is in session—the Honorable Judge EeTe presiding. All having business before this honorable court draw near, give attention, and you shall be heard. You may be seated.

JUDGE EeTe:  Well, hello, “Lucy”—long time, no see.  What part of the Earth have you been roaming about, and what people group have you been trying to devour as of late?

LUCY:  My name is Lucifer to you, Judge.  I don’t utilize nicknames—you know that.  It’s not becoming to my stature.  How would you like it if I called you, “Ellie,” Judge EeTe?

JUDGE EeTe:  You can call me anything you want, sorry-ass devil; it will only diminish me if I answer to it. And I sho-nuff don’t answer to you. You and I settled that argument long ago when I rendered the “N” word powerless over me, and my addictions null and void.  So, what brings you to my neck of the woods, Beelzebub (a.k.a. Luuu-ccy)?

LUCY:  Again:  MY NAME IS LU-CI-FER!  Don’t make me lose my cool or you’ll regret it.  Now for the matter at hand:  I’ve come to file a law suit against The Avengers for tarnishing my brand and for theft of intellectual property.

JUDGE EeTe:  Really, now!  Well, first of all, you have no authority here, so you better not lose anything—let alone your temper.  I am in charge in this courtroom.  Second of all, who do you think you are–the Incredible Hulk? Ha!

Source: Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner & The Hulk in The Avengers|Marvel Comics||screenrant.com

LUCY:  Listen—don’t fuck with my name or my game, because if you go “there,” then I’ll go all “N” word kamikaze on you here.  Are you feelin’ me, Shortee?

JUDGE EeTe:  Oh, my God, you’re a hoot!  Once again, Lucy, your threats are not an issue since my real name is “Awesome Woman, Child of God”—that is the only name I recognize and the only name I respond to with any sort of passion or identity.  The rest is like water on a duck’s back to me.  But since we’re on the subject of identity, why do you look like Newt Gingrich?  That’s an odd persona to assume, especially if you’re trying to appeal to my good graces—not!  I know that the writer, Nelson DeMille, once said that “somehow our devils are never quite what we expect when we meet them face to face,” but Luce, this is a bit much.  If you want to get to me, “Wormwood,” why didn’t you appear as Nick Fury from The Avengers, ‘cause this Big Mama sure could tap that on any given day.  You hear what I’m sayin’, Beelzie?

“Nick Fury” (Samuel L. Jackson)|The Avengers||photo from goodgirlsgonegeek.com

Devil “posing” as Newt Gingrich||Source: littlegreenfootballs.com

LUCY:  Ugh!  Because I had to appear in some sort of human casing, so I chose the human skin of a heart that most resembles mine.  That old bastard had me possessing his sorry ass with the first five words of one of his quotes awhile back:  I have enormous personal ambition. I want to shift the entire planet. And I’m doing it. I am now a famous person. I represent real power.”  As soon as Newt said those quotes among all the other idiotic words dripping with buckets of hubris from my realm, I said to Siri:  “Siri, make a note: ‘Newt is my kind of guy!  Next time I appear in the US, remind me to assume Newt’s persona.’”  So, here I am, Biotch, I’m Newt and I’m proud!  Are you going to hear my case or not?

JUDGE EeTe:  Knock yourself out, “wanna-be Newt,” but you might want to keep it short.  I’m expecting Jesus to show up any minute, because where I am he’s not far behind, and you really can’t hold your own against that force.

LUCY:  Oh, good grief!  Fine!  I’ve come to get my due.  According to your own Gallup poll, up to 70% of Americans who “believe in God” think I exist, but only 22% of those who said religion is “not very” important said they believe in me.  And yet, you humans have been butchering my rep (believers and non-believers alike) since time immemorial.   You either ignore my existence (the Jews don’t have any overt concept of a “devil”—how is that possible given the “evil” that came against them in the middle of the last century?), or the Muslims and the Christians label each other as me just to win the argument or war du jour.  How demeaning is that?  And your storytellers either make me a punch line as in the movie, Bedazzled, or I get an offstage role as “The Other” in The Avengers.

I get third billing, for Christ’s sake.  I’m not Satan, not The Devil, not Beelzebub, not Lucifer, not the “snake in the garden,” and not even Goethe’s Mephistopheles which I can somewhat tolerate—but I’m “The Other” in the movie.   And to add insult to injury, that damn “Other,”—what little glimpse I got of him in the last frame of the film—is ugly as sin and loses the war to subjugate all of Earth.

I’m telling you “Ellie”  (you see, two can play this game), the only Faustian movie that ever did me justice was The Devil’s Advocate.  Now that was a role to sink one’s teeth into.  Didn’t Al Pacino do some representin’?  Al was a spitting image of me, if I do say so myself.  That said I want to bring a lawsuit against The Avengers to recoup monies owed for compromising my brand.  There, is that succinct enough for you?

Asgardian Loki (servant of “The Other”) who wants to take over Earth but meets his demise at the hands of The Avengers||Pinterest|9gag.com

JUDGE EeTe:  “Sneaky-snake,” you could use an anger management program, you know that?  And you do know The Avengers aren’t real, right?  It’s just macho Marvel Comic crap with a bunch of guys punching each other out and a couple buxom women thrown into the mix as “eye candy” in skin tight flight/fight suits.

LUCY:  I don’t give a flying fuck!  I demand that they pay me a cut of the $441.8 million that Disney says they are going to make on this film with a public disclaimer that “The Other” is not me, the Devil.   It’s actually Marvel Comic’s super-villain Thanos, and he’s such a freakin’ loser!   Did you see that creepy smile he gave the audience at the very end (if you blinked, you missed it) intimating that he’d return to fight another day.  That’s my fucking M.O.  I’m telling you now; The Avengers either better pay up or have hell to pay from me!

East 9th Street in Judge EeTe’s home town (Cleveland, Ohio) used as double for New York’s 42nd street for scenes of final battle between The Avengers, the Asgardian Loki, and the Chitauri army ||Wikipedia image

******

I woke up when Loki (the bad guy) came crashing to the ground, and I had the oddest feeling that the underlying premise of The Avengers might make an intriguing blog topic, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on the pulse of why it would, due to a massive headache from the blaring speakers.  As WW and I left the theater, we ventured into our usual “Siskel and Ebert” banter:

WW:  So, did you like the movie?  How many thumbs up would you give it?

Me:  Heh?  I’ve lost my hearing from the wall of sound.  What did you say?

WW:  Did you like the 3-D features?

ME:  What?  Do I want any feeding?  No, I’m a little nauseous from that 3-D dive Iron Man took from the top of Stark Towers.  I sure loved the men in tights, though.  Hubba-hubba!  I wouldn’t kick any of that “eye candy” out of my bed—that’s for sure.  I’ve always said that if the Devil could ever tempt me into committing adultery, WW, it would have to be no one less than an action figure, super hero.  Ha!  You better be glad they’re fictional characters, Babe, or you’d have a situation to defuse.  So, do you want to go to Five Guys before seeing Battleship?

WW:  No . . . on second thought, let’s skip lunch and go home and work out (suddenly, I’m feeling rather out of shape).   You also need to figure out what type of blog you can write about this movie that is a bit more “mature” and substantial than the chiseled bods of Captain America, Thor, and Nick Fury.  There was more to this movie than the “punching” for me and the “eye candy” for my scandalous wife.

Captain America and Tony Stark [Iron Man]||Photo: Zade Rosenthal/Disney – AP

“There’s a thunder god, there’s a green “id” giant rage monster, there’s Captain America from the 40s, there’s Tony Stark who definitely doesn’t get along with anybody. Ultimately these people don’t belong together and the whole movie is about finding yourself from community. And finding that you not only belong together but you need each other, very much. Obviously this will be expressed through punching but it will be the heart of the film.”—Joss Whedon, director of The Avengers, about the film.  Wikipedia

***

I am discovering that whether one believes there is an “actual” devil or not, we all can agree that mankind has the heart-stopping ability to bring about Hell on Earth through the choices we make via our free will, and they can be so cataclysmic and devastating that—devil or no devil—those choices plunge us into a searing (sometimes inescapable) Hell.  As corny as it may sound, sacrificial love does seem to be the answer and a coming together in community—family—does seem to be one of the weapons in the arsenal to defeat evil of all kinds.  It’s a little hard to harm your neighbor (as in all people) if you love them like yourself.

Which comes first—do you know?  Is it the forceful nature of our free will that chooses hatred over love, greed over sharing, murdering over nurturing, self-righteousness over humility, bullying over grace, and resentment over forgiveness that collectively energizes evil and thus culminates in a satanic presence like storm clouds gathering into a catastrophic tornado?  Or is it an evil entity that churns in our midst or just beyond the veil, manipulating our every need or want, and turning our demands into an addiction that motivates humans to choose against our better selves and our communal best, causing a tsunami of suffering on the entire Earth from Botswana to Siberia?  Does the devil make us do it or does what we do make the devil?

“If the devil does not exist, and man has therefore created him, he has created him in his own image and likeness.” Fyodor Dostoyevsky

 “It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui.” Helen Keller

 “No matter how an individual views Satan, whether they believe that he is a real character or that he is just the product of literary scholars and imaginations, no one can deny that each one of us has an aspect of the devil within us. By studying the character and nature of Satan, we learn about ourselves; and the more we know about ourselves, the better we can fight our own personal demons—metaphorical or otherwise—in order to create a better tomorrow.” ― Nwaocha Ogechukwu

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.

 
32 Comments

Posted by on May 25, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,