Category: John Curran

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A High Mass for Massie

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A High Mass For Massie

A High Mass For Massie

By John Curran

 

I am not a priest, but if I was I would throw down on a righteous high mass for Thomas Massie. A good man in my opinion, fighting the good fight and he’s really in the trenches today. He must prevail. He is arrayed against the galloping goddamn forces of the modern day Apocalypse in the form of the Godless motherfucker currently some see as president. Good ‘ol USA, great in a lot of ways, not so great in some others, historically speaking. Many bumps in this road if we be truthful about it all but at least, at the very least, we were evolving. Up until this guy.

I don’t mention his name if I can help it but we sure do know it when we see it, smell it, taste it, feel it. Its become like an overpowering thing, like walking onto a field of battle after the last gunshot, on a hot day; before the work details have managed to bury the bodies…the smell kinda knocks ya out, gotta give it pause for a second cause its like nothing you have ever experienced and right off you damn sure know you don’t want to have to experience this again. It’s sorta like why the hell hasn’t this horror been speedily taken care of?  Hell no; it’s been allowed to fester and to grow stronger in its vile poisonous way everyday now while this person jiggles and manipulates every aspect of a system that lo and behold does allow itself to be manipulated and jiggled to allow maximum manipulation and consequent corruption, seeing as how the person is someone of that character, always has been, always will be.

Fact is though, many are now waking up to what is really going on with all of this to the point that even die hard bricks in the road are finding that road shift pretty mightily right under their feet as if a great and most powerful quaking and ‘a shaking of the very earth is occurring such that there no longer really is any room for denial, that building is coming down, better hope it ain’t coming right on top of your head. So, I just hope that during Massie’s last seven months in office he goes after that smelly piece of garbage in the White House with everything he’s got. It’s very important to me, and the country.

Perfection, Imperfected

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Perfection, Imperfected

 

Perfection, Imperfected

 

By John Curran

Well, let me tell ya. It’s hard being a radical leftist bloodthirsty murderous lunatic who hates America, God, and even apple pie. I’m telling ya, as Rodney Dangerfield would say, “I get no respect.” So, once they tarred and feathered me for too much space taken up by my tent in a designated enclosure, I just said enough is enough. All my friends, some of them homeless people, that’s right I admit it, anyway they all said….Phoenix, Arizona? Why would I want to go there? Well the answer was I just threw a dart at my USA wall map ‘n that’s where it stuck. So that was it.

When I hit Phoenix, I looked for a job at this organization that I must keep secret as my good reputation is on the line. I applied for the job of janitor. I was invited up to Personnel. There was a group of them when I walked in, a dozen or so, all sitting in a circle. There was an empty chair in the middle of the circle, that was for me. “Sit yourself down right here ‘ol timer,” says the one guy, standing tall. The others, all dudes, were seated. They were all young.

“So, you want to take out the trash and stuff like that, huh? says the tall guy. “Well tell me this then, do you believe in Jesus? Well, they all turned to me intently, as if everything, everything, depended on my answer to this, and so I told them, Yes, I do. He’s a good neighbor. His last name is Garcia, Jesus Garcia, a very good next door neighbor. Of course this was all just made up. I was just lying to see how far all this would take me. The circle seemed to find all this amusing. Tall guy then asks me, “Would you die for this Jesus Garcia?” Well, I said, I would, “of course,” and that my cat would too, and has in fact,  only recently come back from the dead. “The dead, the dead, yeah I like that,” says Tall guy and proceeds to get a chant going, “The dead, the dead, yes we do, we love the dead, the dead, the dead, the dead, the dead….”

And boy I tell ya they got going with that one, sure did. This spontaneous levity in fact took a few moments to die back down, before calm was finally restored. Tall tells me, “you can empty trash buckets but first the Queen must give final approval,” and then in walks this gorgeous blonde who walks right up to me and tells me that first I better get a haircut, the ‘company cut’ it was called. The idea being complete similarity to all the rest.

And then I woke up. Wow, wicked dream. Hey, no more late night Fox News for me, brother. And so I got up, got dressed, ‘n saw the sun was shining. I knew I was late but I did not want to miss the Sunday service, where I wash the feet of the homeless.

Have ‘Ya?

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Have ‘Ya?

Have ‘Ya?

By John Curran

 

Have ‘ya ever seen the workers in the California fields?

Fields that stretch in places as far as the eye can see,

that go on for a hundred miles, two hundred. Vast.

It feeds a nation.

The workers there bent over

to the task.

It must be hard on the back,

after a while.

They’re Mexican though….

It must be damn hot in the summer sun,

Not much shade.

They’re Mexican though….

So,

Have ‘ya ever seen?