Randomly remembering how my deeply religious (and very bald) father would frequently use nightly Bible time to read this passage from the Bible as a stark reminder to his children of the dangers of making fun of bald men.
#goodtimes
So let me get this straight.
Jake Tapper is focused on attacking my Mom.
Jared and Ivanka are building a private island paradise on Albanian protected land.
Don Jr married the daughter of Epsteinโs banker, and a startup his fund backs just got a record $620M Pentagon loan.
Eric is taking an Israeli drone company public for $1.5B in the middle of a war with Iran that nobody wanted.
And I know: โBut what about your paintings, Hunter?โ
Please.
Failed Snow White actress Rachel Zegler, who cost Disney more than $170 million in her role as the princess, is being brutally mocked for her Met Gala appearance, particularly for her odd jaw movements.
๐๐ช๐ป๐ต ๐๐พ๐ท๐ฐ โ
๐๐๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ป๐น๐ฝ๐ผ ๐ฏ๐ป๐ธ๐ถ
๐๐ฎ๐ถ๐ธ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ผ ๐๐ป๐ฎ๐ช๐ถ๐ผ ๐ช๐ท๐ญ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ธ๐ท๐ผ
In the cemetery nearby, the sexton would dig a hole-heaps of brown, upturned earth. Black, solemn men in long frock coats
with unusually tall hats and shiny black boots would bring a black box. My father would be there in his clerical gown, speaking in a resounding voice. Women wept.
I was told that someone was being buried in this hole in the ground. Certain persons who had been around previously would suddenly no longer be there.
Then I would hear that they had been buried, and that Lord Jesus had taken them to himself.
My mother had taught me a prayer which I had to say every evening. I gladly did so because it gave me a sense of comfort in face of the vague uncertainties of the night:
Spread out thy wings, Lord Jesus mild, And take to thee thy chick, thy child.
"If Satan would devour it,
No harm shall overpower it,"
So let the angels sing!
Lord Jesus was comforting, a nice, benevolent gentleman like Herr Wegenstein up at the castle, rich, powerful, respected, and mindful of little children at night. Why he should be winged like a bird was a conundrum that did not worry me any further.
Far more significant and thought-provoking was the fact that little children were compared to chicks which Lord Jesus evidently "took" reluctantly, like bitter medicine.
This was difficult to understand.
But I understood at once that Satan liked chicks and had to be prevented from eating them. So, although Lord Jesus did not like the taste, he ate them anyway, so that Satan would not get them. As far as that went, my argument was comforting.
But now I was hearing that Lord Jesus "took" other people to himself as well, and that this "taking" was the same as putting them in a hole in the ground.
This sinister analogy had unfortunate con-sequences. I began to distrust Lord Jesus. He lost the aspect of a big, comforting, benevolent bird and became associated with the gloomy black men in frock coats, top hats, and shiny black boots who busied themselves with the black box.
These ruminations of mine led to my first conscious trauma.