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The White Church
by Frederick Foote On a Sunday morning walking down a country road in the blackest state in a 86 percent-black county I came upon a brilliant white church on a hill. I peeked in the window at the row upon row of fresh White faces in their proper places. I studied the stained-glass windows with the White Jesus, White Adam and Eve and White apostles. I opened the door and stepped inside. And discovered the banner saying "White Pride." The preacher spied me and stopped in mid-stride. The congregation turned as one to gaze on me standing in the church door. I was paralyzed by the laser lock of their eyes. The ushers rushed to me and seized my arms. The minister thundered, "Who are you?" The crowd hissed, "Why are you here?" My assailants tighten their grips. I said, "Do you not recognize me? My father has sent me to you." Their roar was like a great fire that scorched my soul. "Apostate, Pretender, Son of Cain! The Dark Angel!" They scream...
Allred-Alive and Well in the Belly of the Beast
September 20, 2021 Words are going the way of the buffalo, though not yet extinct, the ones that are left are only for grazing the vast occupied plains of consciousness as items of interest to only tourists and natural cynics of environmentalism. A relatively few number of them have taken the place of hundreds of thousands of words and their distinctive meanings. Americans have been the least curious lot when it comes to technical jargon. We’ve handed over the specifics of our technology to experts who on the one hand have made it so difficult for ordinary people to utilize any sort of practical ideological or technological advancement. Cars are driven but no one knows how one works. Most people cannot even change a tire. From phones to nuclear weapons, from democracy to fascism, from computers to reading a book, knowledge has been driven over the cliff like the buffalo herds driven from the plains by slaughter and the natural sin of capricious violence Along with this invasion of...