Notes about having a closed mind

“Oh you have a closed mind, you’re not open to new ideas
Or new fears, such as creationism, white pride,
Holocaust denial, Donald Duck cried Shakespeare’s tears
Or this worthless home I’d unload on your backside”,
The latest bunkum, the newest craze,
The madness and the sadness and the badassness
Of the crowd that’s in a daze.

Of whom CS Lewis said, wisely,
As in a dream when a teacher appears,
“They have been maddened with false promises and fears,
And soured with true miseries”.

Well, Tex, in the Army they used to say, back in the day,
There’s always some bird,
Some Sad Sack who doesn’t get the word.

I guess I’m not a skeptic when it is skeptic time
I’m not a believer when the church bell doth chime.
I’m not supposed to believe the liberal professors
Or let them be my father confessors,
When they talk you’re Voltaire
Despite the fact that you’re talking hot air
Down there, and the joint is reeking
With the false skepticism and real ignorance you’ve been speaking.

Ah but now the trumpet, that old strumpet, summons us again
To read Samuel Huntington,
And get some dat ole time religion
And define that good ole blut undt boden.
Voltaire ain’t there, dude done left the buildin’
I’m thinkin’.

Blow me. Bite my crank.

You have fed yourself on fantasies,
You have lingered in the chambers of the sea,
You’re heart’s grown brutal, you ain’t Voltaire
You’re a pitcher of pee,
Into which Christ is plunged
Eternally.

“Give me an ounce of civet, to sweeten my imagination, good apothecary”

OK, let’s go over this once more, o ye laurels once more
Let us move in measure like the dancer.
It might be tedious and it might be a bore
But I’ll take my chances being a main chancer.

It seems to me a Mystery, and very strange to boot
That today Religion allows us to say anything at all
But once we step outside into the pure clean truth,
The springtime of Sunday outside the meeting hall,
The cops of anti-political correctness forbid us to speak.
“How can you say that what proof do you have
Fire Dan Rather, he’s talking Sanskrit or Greek”.

Inside the Kirk we can say what we like
Whales speak French at the bottom of the sea
H’it’s a mystery
Like Steak and Shake is a meal.
Kevin Costner will dive into the ocean
And plug the oil leak, as long as he got religion.

But for the fool on the hill, here’s a stone
He’s making that stuff all up out of…books
He’d better turn that stone into bread
Afore it hits him upside the side of his head.

And so Enlightenment has gone away
In the remains of the day.
A sigh, curtains are drawn, the TV is on
And we are locked and loaded.

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