Some fine person keeps putting publisher galleys of recently published books on the give-and-take shelf at the bakery. This book is the latest score. It is a translation of the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. You know, from The Bible, the big important nonsense.
The Bible, incorporated as it is, represents a declining resource
for me. I never met a catechism or otherwise had
to read or even believe the thing. I felt the point of a moral or
spiritual compass, however, and tried to find the flint and tinder
supposedly in the book. I mean in the way of a drifty teenager with
willing reach. I read most of
this bestseller but wow, when Paul shows up in Acts, I am done. You
can have your swarthy New Testament. The
darkness is of unobserved ignorance, blinders to the heart.
I’ve only started meddling with
this new translation. It seems fresh and different. So many ancient
texts exist, to explain or at least comfort our sense of existence.
The Bible seems to have endured a steroid kiss that makes it perfect
in its rebuke.
The compelling stories have been
co-opted by the rules committee. We can read The Epic of Gilgamesh as
if it came from a curious intent. The Bible has been blown into a
correctional institute. The mythic texture has been abandoned for
Donald Trump certainty. Just as Donald Trump, the terrible tv show,
shouldn’t be alive, neither should this bulwark of fear called King
James Version, Ltd.
Fox seems to be on a rescue
mission, and I’m for it. He has done his home work, if notes and
commentary galore make the case. I aint finished the book but I got
the sense that someone was thinking in the process of making it.
I say that because I hate The
Bible by the weight it is wielded.
Incontrovertible, my ass. At
some point, thinking of the Trump horizon, we will need to respond to
thinking. Emotion is a distracting gusset, enabling the lizard to
pull the plough. We need a more thoughtful response to an ephemeral
world. Anger hides fear. Behemoths called stranger, resource, death,
worry our daily day. An angry trumpeting brings no cure. True word,
it brings no cure.
Bible baby brings nothing if no
mind attaches thought. Fearmonger Incorporated has attached his
graded face to the
scared kid who can’t explain. Maybe this Joshua cat was just
another pogrom. Pogroms don’t work because survivours remember. I
don’t care about a people, I
care about the
world. That is to say, we are
crowded together, beings of purpose, on a momentary world, and we
don’t need the fluffy designs of a ruling committee. The
indications of the ancients aren’t cut and dried, they were
wondering too. Wonder more, explain less, and look at the fear again.