Changing Times

Mere days after the fallout with the church leadership because of that and this. The attitudes, rhetoric, and behavioral patterns of many among them there to sit, suddenly began to change. Some words, statements, and terms in their arguments that were never used in the past. (Not in our hearing, at least, since you'd asked.) These all started rolling off people's tongues. Even coming from the pulpit back home, and fast, to go and sit on somebody's old-boned as... I mean, back to the task.

Take this from someone who would have been there for well over twenty years, sitting in a very prominent and somewhat privileged position, of theirs. Somewhere nearer than you, to the chieftain's rock king chair.

"Or was it around the pulpit?"

"Oh sheet!"

"Yes, that was it, there."

Close enough to have been able to see and hear quite a bit of theirs. But there was never any such rhetoric. There was no need for it one might suppose to say and spit. Everybody was sitting in their comfort zone under their noses and looking down, on this. But then, what would have changed? How come one doesn't usually see those types of heavy-handed reactions falling on blame, like that one, as was to be seen when meted out to others as it applies to misbehavior? "Oh, my savior!" Cried the old man. Misbehaviors such as these that are common amongst them and their friends, holey graveyard! Someone probably got tired of seeing the deadness, woke up, and spoke up, I guess, and that was when...

Of course, they would have tried to pacify the situation, tried to fix it, as usual, mi bredda man. Or sweep it under the carpet for the school gal, (de nedda wan,) you know, and the other girls.

"Which, which girls, those from the Netherlands?"

"Yes. But this wasn't the usual this time."

What they didn't know at the time was this; the person that they were there trying to fix this time, was the fixer of people who were trying to fix people and solve these crimes. He'd come with a mission to get some things fixed, miss, and "fix" he would, (or would not.) Depending on what some gods might think of the pruning fork. Even though he knows that sometimes, things have to get a whole lot worse before they get better, and boy, did they ever get worse? Yes, of course, mi bredda, they did. They sure did, and they are still getting worse today, my brother's man kid.

"But why, though, why were they so badly shaken up?"

"Could it be that, like, because they've been 'shown up,' and were surely not happy about that cup, of mannish water?" Drink, shrink, drink it up. Why were they so mad? Why are they still so very mad, at the man, and for what? I mean, really? Why did they react in such a manner, Neily? Could it be because such things are not allowed in Christendom? Or is it just among them and the sixth one's dumb? Could have been you know, or, it could have been because they don't know the difference between fiction and facts. Or between fantasy and reality, odd things such as that, though, could never be. Or could it?

Imagination is something to be crushed by them, so it would seem to me mi maaga fren, sorry, I meant to say, my meager friend. In their necks of the hood dead pen, and their dreams. Well, this man right here, Elkhan the Elk. No, not the bear staking out the rear, but him. He seems to be a wild-ass type of an Ishmael-ish, mail-ish type of male. He won't be tamed. Surely, won't be blamed, nor will he take any of those names that they may try to force upon him. Unless it's the one that he wants to be liking. Like, "free," just for instance. Free to see, free to be, free to be what he wants Ted to be, I mean, wanted, and that thing that he wants most to be, as it would seem to you and me is, free. Period.

So, as it appeared to some, down there on the row. He threw them a baited plum, and they swallowed it down, hook, line, and sinker round, and ran with it. How could they, even after the brother had been telling them for months down the way? Well, I know how, of course, the Elk had been following foo L, I mean. The Elk had been following some people who didn't portray the attributes of the wise and prudent. Therefore, it must have been the other types that he'd been following, like Prudence.

We've all been following her, whether or not one wants to admit it mi, pops, it was them. They're people like himself, his very own self sitting there on the shelf, yes, him and the neat wheats. That's the kind of people "leaders" that he had been following for weeks. Like. Like, against his will, to state the following: like, all this time. Well, there comes a time in everybody's life and mine, a time when we must all heed another kind of call down the pipelines. That time is now for this other kind of guy cow, and wow! "I won't get mad anymore," said the Elk to the back door. I'll just get insights now. Yes, I will get insights, instead.

Suppose you were a kind of people who were industrious, though, and like, astute, and aware. Suppose one should have risen from amongst you? Yes, even from there. One who'd gotten a strange and weird idea that she could invent and create things? Things like, let's say, writing books, for example, all-be-it, the one that stinks. Then went out and wrote one, (badly,) and trampled it. Suppose all that was needed to make that badly written book into a great book, and gladly so, was a good agent, a good editor, a good publisher, and a good marketer from these nooks? Suppose that was what the brotherman and his sister were searching for, from amongst you, and the crooks?

Suppose that sort could have been found coming from amongst you, and yeah, them too? What if that was exactly what the brother and sister were trying to find coming from among you and your friends when he was there talking about it all that times, on end? He (probably) would have wanted us as a people to reap and keep the benefits in the house, yeah, as much as the chorus. In the family, and on the family lines too. What if you'd missed out on a grand opportunity here, and the wines, or even the beers, coming in kinds, from where? Yes, there. What if it was all your fault? Like, your ineptitude, and you being so "salt," I mean, salty? But then again, we all do know the truth, that isn't the case here, my youth. Right, Gertrude, dear? So, Mutant Pinochet. No, not yet. Well, good night death, go fret.

"Are you a Christian?" They were quick to ask about this around the fish pan. This roughly translates into meaning; do nothing with your life, except what I tell you to do tonight, perhaps, and only so far as I may allow you the rights. Because, whatever you think that you can do, I can do that too, and better. You must never outshine, outperform, out nothing me. Ensure that you never do or be. Nor should you ever become anything, like she, so as not to show me up towards the stairways of heaven, to see. My kind of people and I don't want to be shown up that way. Even if you think that it's the easiest way there, to stay. It's a sin to do so. But, as said before, the Elk is that kind of a wild ass of a man and a bore. So, here we go again, Clor.

Shouldn't one strive for change, though, like, for betterment? Shouldn't one at least try to change the way one does the things that such a one may do, for them even? The things that one does, period? After that one should have found out that one had been lolled, for instance. Tricked too, by the weak ones, and made to sign away one's rights, on brick stands? "Woo, that was cute, man."

"I know, but, but..." Okay, how about, one's life and one's freedom, or money, and that was before such a person had gotten to know that she has any. The money that is? Or even how much she was worth, (a half penny,) working on gigs? But they, the other "they, them." They knew it all along. Who do you think it was that had given you your God's, and the books of rules? Supervisory powers too, and other such controlling tools? Then came their many demands for you to provide them with periodic reports, by way of the finger n pen. "Keep moving, all be merry and bright". Yeah! That's right.

Probably so designed as to keep a watchful eye on you, even in courted courts and courting the wives. To make sure that what you're doing within your walls over there, day and night, conforms to their plans for you and all, my dear? Tell me, who was he, or she, that person or good godly personality? Who was it that would have done all those things on the whole sum, of us? It was him, yes, it was them. Kiss mi teeth though. What a whole heap of an allahbaloo when ebbrey baddy dun knoah sey nutton nuh goh soh. Much ado about nothing, because everyone already knows that that's not the way things usually work on the spin, go. Back now, though, to the point at hand, no?

"Yes."

After the brother was made aware of all these things. After getting a glimpse of where he was, and of all of the entities who, (seemingly,) had vested interest in keeping him enslaved, and fat. Are you feeling me? Yes. Okay, I guess. But not as fat as in, free-flowing facts, nor cash, ignorant too, and in chains, to go serve them in perpetuity, again. Growing more into loving it every day and watching his fortune and birthright slipping away. Having found this out though and having gotten a glimpse into how far beyond the limits he was. Heading deeper in and into perpetuity on this too oh, and the bugs. After finding out all this, and the fur coat for the little miss. Should such a person continue going along that same path unabated, and to the pits, as they did?

Should he not begin to try and change some things, like, try plugging the holes that were there draining him? Shouldn't he try and set some priorities in his life? Shouldn't he start with the most logical and least costly of things, then work his way in from there? In other words, what would Jesus do to care, in a case such as this is, here? If there was a God somewhere, and let's say, there was something that she wanted him to know, wouldn't she have written it down somewhere and framed it to stay that way, and get them to be able to show? So that one, anyone at all... "Everyone, even." So that everyone might be able to find it and read it, to become wise too, as he did? Wouldn't she, Boo? Mi rathid!

Wouldn't she say something like: give no sleep to your eyes, nor rest to your eyelids until you've delivered yourself, out of their cribs of mischief? Or out of their hands, and break the yoke? Wouldn't she? Yes, she would, no joke. So, what now? Do you now want the truth? What is truth, where's your truth anyway? Can you handle the truth, today? Well, here are some truths for your austerity measures then. But don't shoot just yet, mi fren, wait on my friend, over there. At least, not before I'm done, with them. I'm just the messenger here, you know, and the tray-carrier bringing in the rum, and imported beer. So, "What is the truth?" again I asked the youth.

If one should run a Google search on the earth, or consult a dictionary on the term, "what is truth?" One would be more than likely to find answers that describe the truth as (a,) The quality or state of being true. (b) Truth conforms to reality. (c) Truth is most often used to mean being in accordance with fact or reality, or fidelity to the original standard. Among other things, such as the uglier pal amongst the vanguards. Regarding how truth applies to this story, though, and regarding the Elk's view on this and some other things to show. Let's venture here to try and see if we can say what the truth is to him, and I, as we sometimes get to see it in our visions, from within.

The earth as it now is, is the truth. In the sense that, this mass of collective matter right here under our boots, is here, even now, in its many and varied forms, it is here, somehow. We as people, inhabit her crust, and she sustains us in the bus Ted vehicle, for a while. A very short while in the grand scheme of earthly things to spoil the we-group, I'm in. Come to think of it, this too, is the truth. After we've done our "short while" here, we will expire, beware. Quite unlike your bottled beer, which never retires. Another degree of truth, to hang on the wire, my youth, dear, well, maybe.

Because one may argue; that said life is finished on the day that such a one expires. Others may argue that life never ends, it continues on for ever and ever, amen. One only transcends from one state of being to yet another, state, or realm. Truth, or facts? Or perhaps it's just an argument of such? A convincing argument, even. But whatever the case may be this evening. Even if one should conclude that this too, is true, it may only amount to a version of the truth, or two. Even a diminished version of the truth, like you. Here, then, are some more truths for you, as seen through the eyes of Elkhan the Elk, and another few. "I'm here," the Elk had said to the pair. Right now, as you're here reading this too, in bed, perhaps. Whatever the case, though, the Elk was here, and so... How much longer will he be here? That's as good a guess as there are people who make those wild guesses and gears, unless...

Unless there really is some all-knowing, intelligent being somewhere out there in the Mourn Inns. Someone, or something who knows, and who does understand these things, and cares about the causes, Hugo. One who, from time to time, may venture into manipulating those things one way or the other, to make sure that everything works out right for her brother. If she should then choose to share that information with some well-placed, chosen folks like, like your holy father. Folks who are likely to be found in some very special and highly privileged positions, or another, then. There may yet be some other truths to decipher here too, as it applies to you and me, and to the way how I see things going through, these forests of ancient trees.

Those very few things that folks such as you and I do get a chance to see. They lie in me finding out who I am, who I really am, and finding out the harsh results about some things that I might have done. Things that were to have featured well too, in bringing about these current ventures into questioning truths and other such schemes of things, towards the outcomes. How faithful is your god? How faithful are you to your god, and to your belief in her? (Or him, if you prefer the masculine term here, to spin.)

What did she say to you? What did she tell you, or ask of you, versus what you, me, all of us, like, we? All sitting by idling here on the "may-reach" bus near the tree, of his. Versus what we think it was that she'd said? Is that "something" we strongly believe to be the "done" thing that she had said? Was it what she'd, in reality, said? Ee mi bred, tell me nuh man! Was that what she'd said? Are those two things, both the same and one, all the time? Am I allowed to ask this one, or is it a crime?

Elk would have said it first in that meeting, yes, the one that was hastily called to sanction him, for writing a book, or some such other thing. A book that they weren't very pleased with because the contents were not to their liking, (sit, sit, yes.) So, they had to straighten him out. Yes, folks, Elk had some things to say to them too, there and then. He wanted to tell them, and he would have gone straight ahead and told them. Among other things, he'd said, "Sometimes love has got to be cruel, to be kind."

He wasn't about to stop there at the line either, not this time, meager. He was going to say it again. "Sometimes," he said. "Sometimes love has got to be cruel, mi bred, really cruel, to be kind, to them. Learn that and be wise, my friends." If you have an issue with him on this, in disguise, just remember the other bits' eyes. "Don't get mad," you might have heard them say. Get even, instead, or go away, yes, go to bed. But what good is there in either of those, getting mad, or getting "even," even a rose, to be glad, Miss Stevens? I'd say, in agreement with the Elk himself today. "Get insights, instead."

So, when he was tempted to get mad at those folks, for what at the time he had construed to be unjust, and unreasonable treatment, of course. It had begun to dawn on him that this here, is yet another great occasion to be fair, and garner some beer. Well, no, not that, but some really valuable insights from them to hear. So, insights it has been, ever since, my dear.

That's it for today, my friend, see you again tomorrow, or sometime thereafter. Don't forget to like, share, and comment. We sure would appreciate it if you would subscribe and follow us somewhere too, thank you. 

@WritingElk