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Volume 12, Issue 2: Cave of Adullam

Mutterings on the Regnant Follies

Wutang Clan

Back to Basics
Have you ever realized that you have legs? Not simply a subconscious admission, but have you ever whole-heartedly embraced the fact of their reality and gone dashing about? We always know that we have them, and yet sometimes we actually believe that we do. Those are the times of sheer joy. Modern Christians know quite a bit, but we believe very little. We know there is a Heaven, but we don't think too much about it because we would begin to believe in it and the glory would squish our brains. We know we have two legs, but we don't act like it. G.K. Chesterton once wrote a book about a man who truly realized he had two legs. It's entitled Manalive and is a must read for all amillennialists. Here is a brief section from the beginning. The main character has just come leaping over a fence and hurriedly climbed a tree before dropping onto the lawn in front of a group of complete strangers, who immediately question him as to his identity.

"Are you, may I ask, a professional acrobat on a tour, or a traveling advertisement of Sunny Jim? How and why do you display all this energy for clearing walls and climbing trees in our melancholy, but at least rational, suburbs?"
The stranger, so far as so loud a person was capable of it, appeared to grow confidential.
"Well, it's a trick of my own," he confessed candidly. "I do it by having two legs."

What Did Della Wear?
Has anyone ever heard of the University of Delaware's football team? Or basketball? Or anything? We hadn't. We just assumed that their lack of any kind of athletic profile was merely a by-product of low enrollment. It is a small state after all. Well, their enrollment is around thirty thousand. What gives? Some of you on the East Coast have heard of them, no doubt, but only for the same reason that we've heard of Bovill-proximity. But no one, East or West, can claim to see them regularly on Sportcenter. Well, what gives? We have it from a usually reliable source (and he lives there) that the largest club on campus is their version of the GLBA. The Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Association dominates the scene. Next in line are the Wyccans. We can only imagine their coaches' recruiting difficulties. Speaking stereotypically, and perhaps illegally, gay linebackers have never dominated. What is the moral to this sad tale? Teach your boys to throw. We wouldn't want them mistaken for a Delaware . . . what's their mascot?

Well, Unicorns
Of all people, Christians have trouble with a good story. We can't take a good story-we hate the idea that mythology might be true. Modern Christians will do anything to get out of swallowing glory. We prefer to stick to our internet chat rooms. Here's an example. How many of you, raise your hands now, do not believe that the angels intermarried with the daughters of men in Genesis chapter six? There, see? And no, we don't want letters explaining your reasons. Here's another. Most of us probably don't believe that unicorns ever existed, and the only reason is because we don't want to. In Job 39:9-12 God asks Job, "Will the wild ox be willing to serve you? Will he bed by your manger? Can you bind the wild ox in the furrow with ropes? Or will he plow the valleys behind you? Will you trust him because his strength is great? Or will you leave your labor to him? Will you trust him to bring home your grain, and gather it to your threshing floor?" This is from the NKJV, and the translators really should know better. Job could answer yes to all of these questions, making them look pretty silly. What would you use to plow other than an ox? Go read the same passage in the AV. "Wild ox" has been swapped in for "unicorn." Why? Because we know unicorns don't exist. We hate good stories. And no, we don't want letters on this one either. We already know that from the side an ox's horns line up perfectly and if you squint, it really does look like it only has one horn. But nobody likes you anyway.

Three Sheets to the Wind
One of the most interesting things about the English language is its vastness with regard to drunkenness. In any dictionary of slang it is far and away the total tonnage victor. But it really doesn't stop there. It is actually difficult to find any word or phrase that cannot ever be used as a metaphor for drunkenness. We, in fact, still haven't found one. Our theory is that when the mind is thoroughly oiled it becomes so nebulous that anything could be going on inside. Thus, when the mind is buttered so thin, everything is covered. Some examples: after four drinks he started writing haiku; he staggered palindromically across the bar; he got a little shiny. However, some are better than others because they tie in more directly to the state of non compos mentis. After much random word replacement, we think we have found the perfect idiom for drunkenness. And really, the only reason why it is included here is that we wanted it to catch on. "He's over in the corner, running for Congress."

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